


Legally Barisi

by sarahcakes613



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Background Relationships, Bend and Snap, Break Up, Costumes, Courtroom Drama, Dogs, Drag Queens, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Friendship, Harvard University, Inspired by Legally Blonde, Light Angst, M/M, Manicures & Pedicures, Pep talks, Plot Twists, Public Humiliation, Sexual Harassment, background Mike Dodds/Nick Amaro, background Trevor Langan/Peter Stone, former Sonny Carisi/Peter Stone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: You know the story: Sonny follows his heart to Harvard, only to discover that the strength was inside him all along.Or, it's Legally Blonde, Barisi-style!
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 130
Kudos: 65





	1. I've got some dreams to make true

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone familiar with the film and/or musical will recognize portions of dialogue. Credit for that goes to Karen McCullah Lutz & Kirsten Smith (film) and Heather Hach (musical). Chapter titles are lyrics from the musical, credit for those goes to Laurence O'Keefe and Nell Benjamin.
> 
> Character and additional tags will be added with each chapter, so don't worry if you don't see a tag you're expecting. Story is near completion and new chapters will be posted every three days for the entirety of February!
> 
> Thank you eternally to Bex for being my beta and LB guru. Any continuity errors or glaring typos are my fault alone.

The house bustles with excitement as Bella Carisi runs from room to room, getting the brothers and sisters of Delta Nu to sign the giant card she’s made for Sonny’s impending engagement.

Everyone is only too happy to give their chapter president best wishes. Sonny Carisi is the first male president of any chapter of Delta Nu and he’s worked hard to make the CULA chapter inclusive and representational while still ensuring that every member embodies the motto and mission of Delta Nu.

Kat Tamin, the chapter’s vice president, is the final signee, and she takes the finished product to Sonny’s room.

“Knock knock,” she calls out, rapping on the door with her knuckle.

“Come in,” Sonny answers and she pushes the door in to find him at his vanity, carefully painting his dog’s nails with animal-friendly polish.

“We’ve got something for you,” she says, setting the card down and giving Buttons a scritch behind the ear.

He screws the polish closed and picks up the card.

“Sonny and Peter Forever,” he reads, and he gasps when he opens it to see all of the signatures. “Oh you guys, you shouldn’t have! I don’t even really know for sure that he’s going to propose tonight.”

Kat levels him with a solemn look. “You’re painting Buttons’s nails. You only do that instead of taking him to the salon when you feel nervous about something. Besides, of course he’s going to propose tonight.”

Sonny sets the card down and grins up at her. “Yeah,” he laughs, standing. “He really is!” He hugs her and they rock back and forth for a minute before separating and checking their hair in the mirror.

He gazes fondly at the card. Sonny Carisi is beloved by all, and his boyfriend Peter Stone has been voted sexiest man on campus the past two years running. They’re truly a perfect match, and tonight’s going to be the perfect proposal. Which means Sonny needs to figure out what he’s going to wear.

After a cursory inspection of his closet, he grabs his wallet. “If anyone asks, I’m at the mall,” he tells Buttons. Kat picks him up, helping him wave bye-bye to Sonny, and she grins at him as he leaves.

“Good luck,” she calls out. “Don’t get anything too skanky!”

“I make no promises!” He calls back, laughing.

* * *

Peter arrives to pick Sonny up for their dinner date, and he smiles briefly at the crowd of onlookers in the foyer.

“Hi Peter,” Bella greets him. “I’ll go see if Sonny’s ready yet.”

“You’re a peach, Bells.” He winks at her, and she giggles as she runs up the stairs to Sonny’s room.

Meanwhile, Sonny is standing in front of his mirror, inspecting his outfit from every angle. A man only gets proposed to once if he’s lucky, and he needs to make sure he looks picture-perfect. He knows Peter is taking him to Il Postino, their favourite Italian restaurant, and he’ll have reserved their usual table, angled perfectly to the right of a recessed light that will shine down on Sonny’s glossy dark blond hair.

“What do you think, Buttons?” He asks the dachshund-yorkie mix, who watches attentively from the bed. Sonny tilts his head, looking at his reflection, and Buttons tilts his as well before yipping once.

“You’re right,” Sonny nods decisively. “It does need something else.”

He’s wearing his new suit, candyfloss pink linen with a pale lavender shirt and a striped tie. The tie has thin blue lines that perfectly match the sky blue of his eyes. Peter loves his eyes, always telling him they look like the waters of the lake he grew up sailing on.

Sonny already has an outfit picked out for when Peter takes him home to meet his family and celebrate their engagement with the East Coast Stones. They’ll go in summer, of course, so they can have their party on Peter’s father’s yacht.

For the moment, he reaches into his dresser and pulls out a polka-dotted square of silk that he nimbly arranges into a three-point fold in his breast pocket, the pink tips emerging out like the first tulip of spring.

Buttons barks again and Sonny agrees. “Yes, that’s much better. Wish me luck, Buttons!” He bends down to give his dog a peck on the nose before opening the door just as Bella is about to knock.

“Peter’s here,” she says breathlessly. “Good luck!”

He squeezes her into a hug and floats down the stairs, where Peter is standing with his hands in his pockets looking off into the distance. He turns as he hears Sonny, and his face breaks out into a smile.

“Hey there, Sunshine,” he murmurs and crooks his arm.

Sonny blushes and takes his elbow, waggling his fingers to his friends as they leave. He talks to Peter about his day on the drive to the restaurant, updating him on the latest Delta Nu gossip. Peter nods and hums occasionally but is content to let Sonny talk. He keeps one hand on the wheel and the other on Sonny’s thigh and the warm heavy weight is comforting. Sonny pictures that large hand with a gold band on the ring finger and his own hands tingle as he thinks about it.

The maître d’ greets them, ushering them to their usual table with a bow. It’s already set with lighted tea lights and a bottle of champagne on ice, and Sonny’s heart swells in his chest at how once again Peter has thought of everything.

“You look beautiful,” Peter says as a waiter pours them each a glass of the sparkling wine. “Is that a new suit?”

“I got it special for tonight,” Sonny says. “You won’t believe what happened to me at the store though.”

He tells his boyfriend all about his encounter with a particularly obnoxious saleswoman and Peter’s eyes are soft as he listens. He squeezes Sonny’s hand as he finishes the story.

“Sounds like you handled that wonderfully, Sunshine. I love when you use that pretty head of yours.”

Sonny ducks his head bashfully but beams at his boyfriend. He picks up his glass. “Here’s to us, then.”

Peter clinks his glass gently. “To us.” He swigs half of his wine and sets it down with a sigh. “There’s a reason I wanted to come here tonight. I think it’s important we discuss our future.”

Sonny tries not to appear eager but he nods. “I completely agree, Peter.”

“Good,” Peter toys with the stem of his glass. “You know we’ve been having fun.”

Sonny grins and nods, thinking about the hours spent together at the Carisi’s beachfront home and his president’s suite in the sorority house.

“Well, Harvard’s going to be different.” Peter continues. “Law school is a completely separate world, and I need to be serious about it.

“Of course,” Sonny agrees.

“My family expects a lot from me. I expect a lot from me. I want to be the District Attorney for Manhattan someday. You know my father wants me to follow in his footsteps, and he’s running for re-election this year. By the time I’m finished at Harvard, I’ll be ready to join him as a junior ADA.”

“And you know I fully support that,” Sonny encourages him. He puts his hand on Peter’s, squeezing it. “You’re going to be wonderful at it.”

Peter chuckles. “The thing is, if I’m going to achieve all of that, I need to stop dicking around. And that’s why I think…Sonny. My sunshine.”

This is it, this is his moment. Sonny takes a deep breath.

They speak at the same time.

“I think we should break up.”

“I do. Wait, what?”

Peter shifts uncomfortably. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and I think it’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re…you’re breaking up with me?” Sonny splutters. “I thought you were proposing!”

“Proposing? Sonny, if I’m going to be a district attorney someday…I need to marry a Liam, not a Chris.”

Sonny feels cold and it’s not from the chilled wine. “So, you’re breaking up with me…because I’m blond?”

“That’s not it,” Peter looks everywhere but at his eyes.

“So when you said you loved me, was that just you dicking around?” Sonny’s voice trembles and he clenches his hands in his lap.

“Sonny, I do love you.” Peter finally looks him in the eye. “I just can’t marry you. I don’t think you understand the kind of pressure I’m under, my father expects me to follow in his footsteps, my sister just got engaged to a Rockefeller, for Christ’s sake.”

Sonny starts to shake his head, tears falling from his eyes as he abruptly pushes back from the table.

“Sunshine, come on,” Peter tries to coax him. “It’s not like I have a choice here. I’m not happy about this either.”

Sonny pushes his way out of the restaurant, barely able to see through his tears. Philip winces and tries to smile at the couple staring at him from the next table.

“Bad clams,” he says, and he follows Sonny out of the restaurant.

Sonny is already walking down the street and Peter drives slowly alongside him.

“At least let me take you home,” he tries to coax Sonny into the car. Sonny ignores him, staring resolutely ahead as he walks.

“Sonny, please.” Peter says. “You have to believe I never expected to do this, but I think it’s the right thing.”

Sonny turns and faces the open car window. His face is crumpled, his softly gelled hair now limp across his forehead.

“How can it be the right thing if we’re not together?” He asks sadly.

Peter sighs. “I have to think about my future, and what my family expects of me.”

Sonny frowns. “So you’re breaking up with me because you don’t think your family will like me? But everybody likes me.”

“East Coast people are different, Sunshine.” Peter gives him that winning white-teeth smile of his, but right now Sonny feels like it’s devoid of any charm.

“So, because I’m not a Rockefeller, I’m what, some kind of white trash? You don’t think your family will like you marrying a loud Italian guy from California? I grew up next door to the Hiltons, and most people would agree that’s way better than some fancypants Rockefeller!”

Peter sighs. “I told you, I need someone serious.”

Sonny’s face crumples further and his lip quivers. “But I’m seriously in love with you. Why isn’t that enough?” He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and turns to start walking again.

“Sunshine, get in the car.” Peter says. “Come on, you’re going to ruin your shoes.”

They’re brown Tom Fords, and Sonny looks down at them sadly. They’re also new, bought just today with the suit he is wearing. The outfit he’d been so sure would look perfect with the rose gold engagement band he’d envisioned Peter proposing with. 

He huffs as he gets into the car. Peter tries to put his hand on Sonny’s thigh in a comforting gesture, but Sonny twitches it off, awkwardly angling his body towards the window and refusing to speak until they pull up in front of the Delta Nu chapter house.

He trudges into the hall and freezes when Bella, Kat, and a dozen other Delta Nu members shout “SURPRISE!”, confetti falling from the balcony and a large banner unfurling to reveal “SONNY CARISI & PETER STONE” in glitter paint.

Their cheering voices fall silent as he stands there, face wet and eyes puffy from crying. He doesn’t look at them as he stumbles up the stairs, but he hears Kat whisper to Bella.

“I’ll get the cucumber gel pack from the kitchen, he’s going to want that for his eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Serious.


	2. What you want is right in front of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It didn't feel right having an entire SVU cast story and not putting the bossmom in anywhere, so let's play "spot the Benson" in this chapter!

“We should do something, he hasn’t been outside in ages! God, I can’t imagine what his tan lines look like right now.”

“Well it’s your turn to try, I already asked him for help with planning a birthday party for my mom’s cat and all he did was send me a link to the party planner he used for Buttons’ confirmation party. He didn't even include any emojis in the message!”

The voices outside his room are hushed, but he can hear them talking and Sonny knows they’re talking about him. It’s true that he hasn’t left the house, has barely left his room, for almost a week.

There’s no point, when all that’s outside is memories of Peter and their life together. He looked outside yesterday, at the tree whose branches tap at his window when it’s windy. He remembered the night shortly after they’d met, when Peter had scaled that tree and knocked on three windows before successfully finding his.

He’d drawn the curtains, shutting out the tree and the sun. He’s never drawn the curtains closed on that window before, believing the Vitamin D was too essential to his wellbeing.

He lethargically lifts another chocolate out of the tin, robotically peeling off the wrapper and bringing it to his mouth. On the television, Lucky Spencer is telling Elizabeth how much he loves her. Sonny watches General Hospital every day, and he knows what Elizabeth doesn’t, that Lucky is sleeping with her sister.

“LIAR!” He screams, throwing his chocolate at the screen. Buttons looks up in alarm, but ignores the fallen candy.

There’s a rap on his door.

“Sonny? I’m coming in.”

He hunches his shoulders up as his sister barges into the room and looks down at him, hands on her hips.

“How much longer are you gonna wallow in here, huh?” She demands. “It’s been like, a week.” She grabs his hand, tsking as she looks at his cuticles.

“Come on, we’re going out.”

He lets her shove him into a clean outfit and they land up at their favourite nail salon, where he lets his mind drift idly as one aesthetician attacks his feet with a pumice while another fixes his bitten nails. She clucks at how ragged they are and he mumbles an apology, letting Bella explain to them what had happened.

As he sits with his feet under the lamp, he notices the older woman next to him is reading the society page of the newspaper and he gasps at the large black and white photograph featured above the fold.

“Oh my god!” He says, tugging the paper closer. The woman looks at him, startled, but leans over to follow her paper.

“Do you know who this is?” He asks her. She shakes her head. “This is Peter’s sister!” He reads the caption of the photo. “Third year Yale Law student Pamela Stone and her fiancé, Derek Strauss-Rockefeller, first year Yale Law.”

He sits back in his reclining chair. “This is the type of guy Peter wants to marry! This is what I need to become serious!”

The woman looks at the photo and then back to Sonny.

“You’re going to start wearing Brooks Brothers?”

“No!” He smiles at her, the first time he’s let himself smile in a week, and it’s a beam worthy of his nickname. “I’m going to go to law school!”

* * *

His parents don’t react nearly as enthusiastically as the woman in the salon.

“Law school?” Dominick Carisi Sr. frowns.

“It’s a perfectly respectable career choice,” Sonny argues. “You wouldn’t be as successful as you are at taking over small production companies if it weren’t for entertainment lawyers.”

“Oh honey,” Tessa Carisi clucks. “I’m just not sure about your complexion in those cold New England winters.”

“Mom, dad,” Sonny hoists himself out of the pool and looks beseechingly at them both. “Going to Harvard is the only way I’m going to get the love of my life back. Don’t you want me to be happy, and with Peter? You like Peter.”

Tessa and Dominick exchange a look that Sonny can’t interpret.

“Of course we do, son,” Dominick says. “He was a fine young man, but do you really think he’s the one? You’re not just changing career paths, you’d be changing your entire future.”

“Sweetheart,” Tessa cups his cheek. “Law school is for...well, serious people.” Dominick nods solemnly. “We just want to make sure you’ve really thought about it.”

Sonny frowns at them. No one seems to think he can do it, that he’s got it in him to be serious.

“You guys will support me if I go though, won’t you?” He bites his lip.

His dad sighs and looks at his mother. “Oh peanut, of course we will.” She coos, and leans down to buss his cheek loudly.

“Harvard,” Dominick shakes his head ruefully. “Only you would think following your heart was worth the East Coast, Sonny. But if you get in, of course we’ll support you.”

* * *

Sonny meets with an advisor to discuss what he will need for his application. She only glances cursorily at his file and then focuses her attention on him. He’s wearing a casual powder blue suit for the occasion with a yellow paisley ascot.

“Harvard Law School?” She asks him, as if she could have misheard him.

“That’s right,” he nods.

She looks at him sternly from over her plastic-framed glasses. “Mr. Carisi, that’s a top three school.”

“I know, but if you’ll look at my grades, I’ll be receiving my Bachelor’s summa cum laude, and -“

She cuts him off. “Yes,” she acknowledges in a throaty voice, “but your major is Fashion Merchandising. I don’t think Harvard is going to be impressed that you aced Intro to Fashion Labels. Have you thought about back-ups?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t need ‘em,” he says brightly. “I’m going to Harvard.”

The advisor considers him. “Well, you’re going to need excellent recommendations from your professors...”

He hands her three signed letters, one from his thesis advisor, one from the chair of the Business department, and one from his neighbour.

“Is this…. _the_ Oprah?”

“Mhm!” Sonny says. “We go to the same dog park.”

“Right. And you’re also going to need one hell of an admissions essay...”

Sonny nods. He’s already got an idea for that.

“And at least a 173 on your LSAT score.” The advisor finishes, taking her glasses off and dangling them by the arm.

Sonny shrugs one shoulder. “I once had to judge a wet t-shirt contest for Kappa Alpha Theta, I can handle it.”

What follows is the hardest period of studying Sonny has ever put himself through. He shuts himself in his room with his study guide and a brand new pack of highlighters and emerges only when one of the other house members calls to let him know his daily delivery from Starbucks has arrived.

There are nights where it starts to seem hopeless. After almost a month of hard work, his first attempt at a mock exam garners him a 143, not nearly high enough to make the cut. As he looks outside, he sees a truckload of upperclassmen from Sigma Alpha Epsilon hollering as they careen down Sorority Row towards their house, where the biggest party of the season is currently underway.

He sighs wistfully. One night out won’t make that much of a difference, surely. When he opens his bedroom door, Kat is standing there holding a fresh six-pack of energy drinks and a pointed look on her face.

His second mock exam goes better and he feels ready for the real thing. He wears his lucky tie, a pale orange silk that he wore on his first day as Delta Nu chapter president. It’s also the tie he was wearing the day he ran into Katy Perry on Rodeo Drive, so it’s not just lucky, it’s also imbued with star-power.

The day the results are announced, he brings up the website with a sinking feeling in his stomach. “I can’t look,” he mumbles through his fingers as the LSAT status page loads.

“Carisi comma Dominick Jr, 176!” Bella shrieks in his ear. The entire sorority is gathered around expectantly, and at her exclamation they all start jumping up and down excitedly, gathering Sonny into a massive group hug.

All that’s left now is his admissions essay. Bella thinks he should talk about his love for Peter and how that propels him forward, but Kat disagrees.

“You want them to think you’re _serious_ , right?” She says _serious_ like it’s the last word she’d ever want in her mouth. “You need to show them you’re already what they want.”

They decide to film a video essay, allowing Sonny to showcase all the lawyerly qualities he already has. If he can manage to command attention at a Delta Nu business meeting, he can absolutely do the same with a jury, and if he can remember every detail of yesterday’s Days of Our Lives, there’s nothing to say he won’t be able to recollect the exact obscure case law that will win him a trial.

They even hire Tommy, Bella’s on-again/off-again boyfriend, to whistle at Sonny off-camera so he can demonstrate his comfort in using legal jargon in everyday life. After saying “I object!” he beams into the camera, and Bella gives him a thumbs-up.

“That was great, Sonny! They are going to absolutely love this!”

* * *

On the other side of the country, the admissions board of Harvard watches Sonny’s video essay in confusion.

“Well…he does have a 4.0,” one man says, looking at the application. “And he got a 176 on his LSATs.” The man looks around the table. The chair of the committee looks vaguely dyspeptic as he looks at the video, paused on Sonny’s beaming face.

“A Fashion major, though?” He frowns.

“Well, we’ve never had one,” the first man offers. “And it says here he’s doing it to help his sister grow her clothing label. He’s very entrepreneurial.”

“He’s also the first male president of his sorority, and he’s, you know…” a second board member says, making a vague hand gesture. “Aren’t we always looking for diversity?”

Chairman Bertuccio pulls a glossy 8x10 out of the file. “He included a calendar spread.” He grimaces, holding it between two fingers. In the photo, Sonny is wearing a faux-fur loincloth and posing like a cat with his hands outstretched like claws.

“It was for his sorority’s charity project supporting a local animal shelter,” the second man points out. “He’s a friend to animals and a philanthropist.”

The chairman sighs, knowing the board is making good points. “Sonny Carisi,” he says, looking back at the television and shaking his head in disbelief. “Welcome to Harvard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from What You Want.


	3. Harvard's the perfect place for me

A small crowd is gathered outside the dormitory gawking at the car with the California plates. Two football players nudge each other as the driver unfolds long legs and emerges from the vehicle with a small fluffy designer breed trotting along at the end of a hot pink leash. The leash matches his collar and also the driver’s polo shirt.

“Can you believe it, Buttons?” He coos to his dog. “We’re at _Harvard_!”

“Check out Malibu Ken,” one of the onlookers jokes.

“Hey sweetheart, you get lost on the way to the mall?” Another one calls out.

Sonny ignores them all, beaming at the men who are carrying things out of a moving truck into his new room. He knew he was downsizing so he’d tried to be judicious in what he brought with him, but that was no reason his new space couldn’t be as comfortable as he was used to. He ducks around the men carrying up his memory-foam mattress and walks into his new room. It’s small, but he is sure once he reconnects with Peter he won’t be spending much time here.

It’s late by the time they finish and he is hungry, but he doesn’t feel up to exploring a new city in the dark, so he makes do with the remainder of his road trip snacks as he looks at a map of the campus.

“I’ve got a lot of classes,” he tells Buttons. “I don’t want to get lost on my first day!”

Buttons watches him wave his granola bar, and scampers after a few oat flakes that have flown off.

* * *

Sonny’s first interaction with any of his new classmates is at a small meet-and-greet on the quad. There are two other 1Ls, both looking slightly less out of place than him but with the same awed look on their face as they bond over being at Harvard. The third person is older, and he’s cute **—** once Sonny looks past the faded corduroy jacket with the shiny elbows. His leather satchel is worn and he pulls a sheaf of papers out of it, passing them out to Sonny and the others.

“These are your class schedules,” he says. “My name is Rafael Barba, I’m Professor Buchanan’s TA and I’ll be here to answer any questions he deems too stupid to give attention to—”

Sonny chortles, but it’s cut short when Rafael’s arched eyebrow tells him it wasn’t a joke. “Which is most questions,” Rafael finishes dryly.

They are all seated on the grass, and Rafael points to one of the other students.

“Why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves?”

“Hey, how are ya,” the student says, nodding at everyone. His eyes linger on Sonny a beat. “My name’s Hasim Khaldun, I’ve got a Ph.D in Middle Eastern Studies with an emphasis on the contemporary practices of radicalization and recruitment, and last year I took a month-long sabbatical from research to go door-to-door for Jewish Voice for Peace.”

The others nod solemnly, and then the next student speaks up. She’s a mousy brunette who seems unable to make eye contact with anyone, and Sonny’s hands ache to massage a moisturizing deep conditioning mask into her hair.

“My name is Minonna Efron, I have a masters in Greek literature, a Ph.D in Gender Studies, and I spent this summer volunteering at a health clinic in Greenwich Village."

They all look at Sonny and he blinks.

“Oh, my turn! I’m Sonny Carisi, and this is Buttons,” he lifts the dorkie’s paw so he is waving to the others. “We’re both Pisces with Scorpio rising. I have a Bachelor’s Degree in Fashion Merchandising and I was president of Delta Nu sorority at CULA. What else? Oh, and right before I left LA, I talked John Legend out of buying a pair of embroidered cowboy boots. Can you imagine?”

He shudders and then smiles brightly at everyone. Minonna’s mouth is hanging slightly open and Hasim is biting his lip to hide a laugh. Rafael just stares at him for a beat and then blinks.

“Right. Well. It’s nice to meet you all, and you should probably get to your first class. Buchanan doesn’t abide by tardiness. Mr. Carisi, I presume you’re going to return…Buttons, to your dorm room?”

Sonny lifts the dog into his arms and nuzzles his nose in Buttons’ fur. “Of course, Buttons would hate to miss his programs!”

He doesn’t see the incredulous way Rafael raises his eyebrows as he leaves.

When he finds his way to the lecture hall, students are milling around outside waiting for the previous class to let out. And there, standing head and shoulders above everyone else, is his Peter, his hair looking shiny and his eyes wandering the hall. As he looks around, Sonny studiously looks down at his notebook.

“Sonny?!”

He looks up, pretending to be taken by surprise. “Oh my god, Peter! I totally forgot you _also_ go here!”

Peter looks at him in confusion, and Sonny aches to reach up and rub away that cute little furrow between his brows.

“What…what are you doing here?”

Sonny laughs. “I go here, silly!”

“You go where?”

He waves a hand around them. “Harvard Law!”

Peter’s expression shifts slightly, his nose scrunching up. “You got into Harvard?”

Sonny puts a hand on his hip, cocks his head and gives a shrug. “What, like it’s hard?” He laughs again, and drops his hand lightly on Peter’s shoulder. “It is _so_ good to see you again! We need to catch up after class, okay?”

Peter nods slowly, still in disbelief, but just then the doors open and they pour into the classroom.

Sonny takes a seat at the front, his notebook and pens angled just right for him to take his notes. He sees everyone else has laptops and he frowns, wondering if he should have brought his, but he’s always been fast with shorthand so he thinks he’ll be alright.

An older man strolls to the middle of the room, his shoulders wide and his face ruddy in a way that hints at a former athlete gone to seed. He looks around and begins to pontificate.

“You are all here because you have a passion for the law. In this room, you will learn a new language and how to pick apart and put back together everything you know about what is just versus what is right. Everything you think you know will be subject to questioning. The seats you are in will be yours for the rest of the year, and for those in the front row,” he looks down at Sonny, his lips widening into a shark’s smile. “Beware.”

He points at someone in the back row. "The law is reason free from passion. Who said that?"

The student sits up. “Aristotle.”

Buchanan folds his arms. “Would you be willing to stake your life on it?”

The student shifts nervously. “I think so.”

“Uh-huh.” The professor points to another student. “What about his life?”

“I don’t know,” the first student admits.

“You don’t know. Well, I recommend knowing before speaking. The law leaves room for interpretation but no room for self-doubt. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know, you never want a jury to think you don’t know. But you were right, so you and your classmate live another day. Well done.”

The student breathes a sigh of relief.

“Now then,” Buchanan continues. “I assume you have all read the pages listed in the syllabus for today’s reading, and are now well-versed in subject matter jurisdiction. Who can tell us about the case? Hmm, let’s call on someone from the hot zone.” He looks down at his clipboard. “Dominick Carisi?”

Sonny raises his hand. “Call me Sonny. And uh, present.”

Buchanan looks over his clipboard. “I can see that. And as to the reading?”

“Okay,” Sonny laughs. “Who assigns readings before the first class?” He looks around, expecting nods of agreement, but no one is laughing with him. His cheeks heat as he realizes his mistake.

Buchanan looks at his clipboard again. “Trevor Langan.”

A tall man with a thick head of dark wavy hair leans forward. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you think it’s acceptable that Mr. Carisi did not arrive prepared for the class?”

“No sir, I don’t.”

“And would you support my decision to ask him to leave class and only return once he is prepared to learn?”

“Absolutely,” Trevor nods. He glances at Sonny, something close to disdain in his eyes.

Sonny’s shoulders are a tense line as he shoves his notebook and pens back into his satchel and he rushes out of the room. Now, there is a faint sound of laughter that trails behind him.

“So stupid,” he mutters to himself, slapping his palm against his forehead.

“You okay?”

He looks up and sees Rafael standing there, concern in his warm green eyes. Looking at him, it’s hard to see how he could possibly work for a pompous ass like Buchanan. He is looking at Sonny like he actually wants to know the answer to his question.

“Do they all do that? Put you on the spot and then kick you out if you don’t know the answer?” He asks, waving at the classroom.

“Ah,” Rafael nods sympathetically. “You sat in Buchanan’s hot zone. If it helps, he made me cry once.”

Sonny purses his lips and arches his brow, doubt writ across his face.

“Seriously, I mean not in class, I waited til I got back to my room, but it was brutal. He’s tough. But fair, you just need to learn to speak his language. He likes people who are opinionated. It doesn’t matter if it’s not his opinion, as long as you sound confident about it.”

“Right, okay. I can do that.” Sonny stands straight up. “Thanks, Rafael.”

The rest of the class lets out, and Sonny sneers when Trevor walks by him. Peter follows, and Sonny grabs his arm.

“Peter! I’m so glad you’re here. How brutal was that?!”

“Oh, um – ” Peter is looking past him and Sonny turns to see Trevor walking back to them.

“Peter?” He says. “Have you told him yet?”

“Told me what?” Sonny asks.

Trevor puts his arm around Peter’s waist and Peter blushes.

“Right, um. Sonny, there’s something you should know. Trevor and I, we went to boarding school together.”

“We were high school sweethearts,” Trevor adds, looking adoringly at Peter.

“And well, we reconnected this summer,” Peter says.

“We’re back together,” Trevor finishes.

Sonny blinks at them. “Sorry, I think I just hallucinated for a second. What?”

“I’m Peter’s boyfriend now,” Trevor repeats. He tilts Peter’s face towards his and kisses him while Sonny stands frozen.

When they finally break apart, Trevor drags Peter away. Peter waves apologetically to Sonny. “It really is so great to see you again, Sonny!” He calls.

Sonny can feel tears welling up and he bites his lip in an attempt to stop them from spilling over. It’s only his first day, he refuses to be pushed out of the game so soon. He needs to refocus his energy, and he knows exactly what the first step to that will be.

He pulls out his phone and searches for the nearest nail salon. He finds The Nail Bar less than twenty minutes from campus and he stomps to his car, yanking the door open with purpose. Everything will make more sense with a fresh coat of polish.

The salon is empty when he gets there, and he breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank God,” he says. “I need a mani-pedi, it’s an emergency.”

The salon owner is tanned, with dark hair and perfect Brooke Shields eyebrows. “Bad day?” He asks.

“You have no idea,” Sonny says, toeing his shoes off and slumping into one of the salon chairs.

“Talk to me,” the man says as he sets up his tools. “Tell your uncle Nicky what the problem is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from The Harvard Variations


	4. You have hope as each new day dawns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued and eternal thanks to Bex for the betawork and thank you to Nads for helping me figure out how to add to the opening scene!

Sonny breathes a sigh of relief as he looks at Nick. He loves that even in this cold East Coast city, he can step into a salon and immediately feel at ease. He misses the staff at his regular place back home, but there’s something about Nick that calms him, something quiet about his personality that meshes with Sonny’s frantic nature.

“Do you have a signature colour?” Nick asks him, gesturing to the colour display on the wall. “We just got some really cool new glitter polishes in.”

“Pink,” Sonny says immediately, then frowns. “That’s probably not serious enough. Maybe just clear today.”

Nick walks over to the wall and considers the options. He selects a few bottles and brings them over to Sonny, the glass clinking in his hand.

They’re all shades of pink, ranging from almost translucent to opaque pastels, and Sonny looks them over carefully before selecting a sheer one. It’s got an oily shimmer to it in the bottle, and he can picture it being almost invisible until it catches the light just right. He turns it over to see the name and huffs a laugh. It’s called “my private cabana”, and he swallows around the lump in his throat as he thinks about the last time he and Peter had gone to Cabo, how much fun they’d had.

As Nick takes his hand, he looks up at Sonny. “So, come on then hon. Let’s hear it, and don’t leave anything out.

“Well,” Sonny starts, “it all began when Peter took me out to dinner for what I thought was going to be a proposal…”

“And then Trevor _kissed_ him, right there in the corridor, before dragging him off, probably to have hot lawyer sex in the library or something.” Sonny finishes his story with a final loud sigh. “So here I am, and I ask you, what do I do?”

Nick looks up from where he’s been focusing on Sonny’s hands, which are now glimmering faintly with the sheer pale pink polish.

Nick grimaces. “Well, I’m not the one who can answer that. Ten years I’m with my lady, I’m by her side through two tours, then suddenly she meets someone new and it’s ‘so long, Nicky’, she took the house and full custody of our baby Zara.” He nods to a large framed glamour photo on the wall by the front counter.

Sonny admires the portrait of Nick with a large blue standard poodle, both of them in matching sailor’s hats. Nick heaves a sigh.

“So anyway, what’s this Trevor got that you don’t, huh? A beer-can dick?”

Sonny snorts. “He went to boarding school with Peter, and their families go to the same country club. He’s _serious_.”

“Listen,” Nick says. “Is this Peter guy really the one? I mean, do you really feel that, deep down in your gut?”

Sonny nods fervently. “Absolutely.”

“Well shit,” he says. “If you can’t keep your man, what hope is there for the rest of us?”

Sonny pouts.

The bell over the door jangles and a UPS deliveryman backs into the salon wheeling a handcart loaded with boxes. He maneuvers it over to the front counter, where one of Nick’s employees signs for it. Nick’s grip on Sonny goes slack and his eyes go soft and wistful.

Sonny follows his eyeline to the UPS Guy, who is tall and broad-shouldered, muscles filling out his brown uniform all over. He looks over to Sonny and Nick as he finishes unloading his cart and he lifts his chin in a greeting, a wide smile ending in deep dimples. The smile fades when Nick resolutely does not meet his gaze, and he leaves the salon without saying anything.

“He’s cute,” Sonny observes. Nick’s eyes shoot over to him and he blushes, ignoring the probing tone of the comment.

“He’s the new delivery driver,” Nick says. “Probably has a wife and three kids at home. But he sure is nice to look at.”

He finishes massaging cream into Sonny’s hands and Sonny holds them up to the light, admiring the shimmery pink.

“What are you waiting for?” Nick asks. Sonny looks away from his nails.

“What?”

“You came all this way to follow the man you love, you can’t let one bad day ruin your dreams. Go get your man back!”

“Yeah!” Sonny sits up straighter. “You’re right, Nick. I’m going to show Peter that I can be just as serious as some country club high school sweetheart!”

As Sonny leaves, he feels that same light confidence he had before going into his first class. Nick’s advice – and his sympathetic ear – are just the balm he needed. He has a feeling he and Nick are going to be great friends, and he only hopes he can repay in kind if Nick ever needs help from him.

* * *

In his next class with Buchanan, Sonny returns to his seat in the front, only this time along with his notebook he has his textbook, now covered in colourful sticky flags and highlighter notations.

“Mr. Carisi, I see you’ve decided to grace me once again with your…presence.” Buchanan says. “Tell me, would you rather have a client who committed a crime malum in se or malum prohibitum?

“Neither,” Sonny answers.

“And why is that?” Buchanan asks.

Sonny shrugs. “I’d rather have a client who’s innocent.”

Buchanan laughs. “And isn’t that the dream, Mr. Carisi. Mr. Langan, which would you prefer?”

“Malum prohibitum, because then the client would just have committed an infraction as opposed to a dangerous crime.”

“Well done, Mr. Langan, clearly you’ve been doing your readings.”

Trevor shoots a haughty look at Sonny, who narrows his eyes and raises his hand. “I’d like to change my answer, professor.”

“Oh?” Buchanan stops his pacing. “To what?”

“I’d choose malum in se. Because I’m not afraid of a challenge.”

The class collectively sucks in their breath as Sonny returns Trevor’s smug grin with one of his own.

Buchanan smiles proudly. “And that’s the right answer.” He turns to address the entire class. “Every year, I choose four of my best and brightest students for an internship at my firm. That’s not going to be most of you. Rise up the challenge, and you may get lucky.” He catches Sonny’s eye again and gives him a benevolent smile.

It’s a kindly gesture, but Sonny frowns. Four out of the entire class aren’t good odds. He’s not afraid of the challenge though, and looking at Trevor and Peter with their heads close together, he resolves to be one of those four.

He knows Peter will get it, because of course he will, and then they’ll be able to spend all day together. They can carpool, and Sonny can make Peter’s favourite breakfast smoothies, and there will be late nights spent poring over paperwork, and then it will be his face bent close to Peter’s, inhaling the faint trace of his Dior Poison cologne, that sexy expensive red licorice aroma that he misses so much.

After class, Sonny goes to the library and finds Peter seated at a table with Trevor, Minonna, and Hasim.

“Hi, everybody!” Sonny says, trying to sound as chipper and friendly as possible.

“Sonny, what ah – what are you doing here?” Peter asks, looking nervously at Trevor.

“I’ve come to join your study group! And look, I’ve got snacks!” He holds up a plastic container of mini-cupcakes.

“Our group is full.” Trevor says coldly. Sonny looks at the empty chair next to Minonna and then back to Trevor.

“Is it like, an RSVP thing?” He asks.

“No, it’s like, a smart people thing?” Trevor mocks.

“I’m sure we can make room for one more,” Peter offers, but Trevor shakes his head.

“We’ve already divided up the outlines. The answer is no.”

Sonny waits for Peter to speak up again, but there is no further response.

“Right.” He says. “Well, okay. I’ll just leave, then.”

He turns and walks away, shoulders lowered dejectedly. As he leaves the library his phone rings, and he answers it without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Sonny! Oh my god, guess what I’m doing right now?!”

His sister’s voice comes through excited and strident, and Sonny closes his eyes, letting her eternal enthusiasm wash over him.

“I don’t know Bells, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying on wedding dresses! Tommy proposed!”

The wave pouring over him turns cold and his eyes spring open. “Oh, wow, Bella, that’s. Congratulations.”

“How’s your mission going?” She asks. “Did Peter fall on his knees when he saw you?”

“Not exactly,” he admits. “But I’ll get there.”

“Well hurry up, I was thinking we could have a double wedding! We miss you, can’t wait for you to come home!”

“I miss you too,” Sonny says. “Everyone here is so cold and East Coast-y.”

“Listen, I have to go, but give Peter my love – and ask what he thinks about a June wedding! Byeeeee!”

The call disconnects and Sonny pockets his phone with a sigh. He’s just about to walk back to his dorm when Trevor and Hasim walk out of the library.

“So make sure you have the white chilled, and we’ll bring the red.” Trevor is saying.

Hasim nods. “This is going to be a great party.”

Sonny’s ears hone in on the word _party_ like a radio signal. “Excuse me, party? Is someone actually having a party at this school?”

Trevor and Hasim exchange a look.

“It’s a costume party,” Trevor says. “You probably wouldn’t want to come.”

“No, I love costume parties!” Sonny enthuses.

“Of course you do!” He mimics Sonny’s bubbly voice. “Well, it’s on Friday at 8pm, 107 Union Street. So, I guess we’ll see you there!”

Sonny nods as they walk away and allows himself a small pat on the back. Sure, they’d all started things off on the wrong foot, but wait til they see how much fun Sonny is. And he knows the perfect way to get Peter’s attention at a costume party. After all, it was Sonny who won Sorority Row’s Marilyn Monroe lookalike competition two years ago. He sighs, remembering how sexy Peter had looked in his Joe DiMaggio outfit.

His costumes are all back home in California, but he thinks he knows the perfect person to help him find something here, and he makes a note in his calendar to stop by The Nail Bar again tomorrow after classes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Ireland.
> 
> The nail polish Sonny is wearing is real and it's by Essie.  
> Peter's cologne description comes verbatim from a Sephora review.


	5. We could keep on dreaming them here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was almost entirely written while listening to Man's World by MARINA on repeat.
> 
> Continued thanks to Bex, especially for the long voice messages explaining hair dye to me.

When Sonny arrives at The Nail Bar, he doesn’t see Nick behind the counter and the only other person in the salon is a statuesque woman with honey blonde hair sitting under one of the dome-shaped hair dryers. She’s got her legs crossed, a shoe dangling from her raised foot.

She looks up when the bell over the door jangles and smiles in greeting.

Sonny smiles back, but looks around anxiously. He’d texted Nick about the party and Nick had promised to be here with everything he would need. He doesn’t know what to expect, maybe a fun costume from one of the glamour shoots Nick had done with Zara.

The woman stands and teeters over to him in her marabou kitten heels. She’s wearing a pair of hip-hugging denim pedal pushers and a denim vest over a tight t-shirt. All in all, she looks like someone Sonny might have walked by in a SoCal bowling alley. The denim vest is embroidered with the name Paulette, and he wonders if she’s stopped in for a blowout after a shift at some sort of themed diner.

Something falls out of her pocket and she gives a coquettish gasp and then leans down to pick it up. As she comes back up, her booty pops and her bust sticks out. She’s looking at Sonny expectantly and his smile turns quizzical as she comes closer.

“Sonny, it’s me!”

He does a double take at the familiar voice, and looks more closely. That’s when he sees it, under the layers of contouring makeup and false lashes, Nick’s dark brown eyes sparkling at him.

“Oh my _god_ , Nick! You look so fantastic girl, what even?”

He does a slow spin in place, suddenly seemingly more confident in his heels.

“Call me Paulette, dahlin’,” he says in a pronounced Boston accent.

Sonny gives a neat bow. “Of course, Paulette. Seriously though, what gives?”

He gestures for Sonny to sit as he strides over to a closet and pulls out an opaque garment bag. His voice returns to its normal cadence as he explains.

“After Maria left me, I was in kind of a bad place. Found myself in a bar lookin’ for a fight and wound up getting my ass kicked until this group of drag queens stepped in. One of them adopted me and eventually turned me into her drag daughter.”

He gestures to the salon around them. “It’s a natural extension of this in a lot of ways. I perform in a revue downtown, you should come check it out sometime.”

Sonny nods enthusiastically. “I definitely will,” he promises. “And that move of yours, the bending to pick something up?”

Nick winks. “The bend and snap, the ladies love that one. Works on straight men everywhere.”

Sonny laughs. “No wonder I was so confused.” He then leans forward eagerly, pointing at the garment bag. “Alright, the suspense is killing me, what’s my costume going to be?”

Nick slowly unzips the garment bag. “Okay, so you mentioned in your message that you’d done a Marilyn Monroe costume and I have this one that I bought for an Austin Powers show we did last year.”

He parts the two sides of the bag to reveal a glossy pale pink strapless one-piece. The bustline is trimmed in pink chandelle and the bottom is cut high on the hip. Dangling from the hanger is a black and white bowtie collar, white wrist cuffs, and a pink headband with foot-long pink bunny ears. They curl slightly at the top, and Sonny can tell there’s wiring in the fabric, so he can adjust the angle of the flop.

“What do you think?” Nick asks. “I bet your Peter takes one look at you and drops that Trevor like yesterday’s stale hot dog bun.”

Sonny nods approvingly. “This is perfect.” He jumps up and runs around the table to wrap Nick up in a hug. “Thank you so much for this, you’re the best friend I have in Boston.”

Nick laughs and returns the embrace. “Just make sure you don’t forget me when you’re sending out those wedding invitations.”

* * *

On the night of the party, Sonny strolls confidently down the street to the address Trevor had given him. There are a few people milling around outside smoking thin hand-rolled cigarettes and holding red cups. The music pouring out of the house is mellow, some sort of jazzy rock that sounds like something Sonny’s parents would listen to when they feel like letting loose. He wonders if whoever’s house this is will let him connect to the Bluetooth speakers, because he’s already pretty sure what this party needs is his “Songs to Get Lit To” playlist on Spotify.

Nobody outside is in costume, and Sonny has a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach as he walks into the house. Conversations fade out as people see him, and words are replaced with laughter as people begin making comments.

“Check out Miss October,” someone sniggers behind him.

“Oh. My. God.” Trevor’s mouth drops open as Sonny walks in, and then curls into a smirk. “Wow, Sonny, when I said costume party, did you think I meant bachelor party?”

Sonny throws his shoulders back and shakes his head, the wig he’d borrowed from Nick falling in curls down to the top of his bustier line.

“Thank you so much for the invite, Trevor!” He says, the sweet tone of his voice turning acidic. “I especially love your costume, you look _just_ like a morning news anchor!”

Trevor’s mouth snaps shut and he has the good grace to look embarrassed, but doesn’t say anything.

“Sonny, what uh, wow. What are you doing here?” Peter stops just inside the room, staring at the miles of leg on display before dragging his eyes up to Sonny’s flushed face.

Sonny turns the sweetness back on. “I just thought it’d be fun to shake things up,” he says airily. “Remember the night I won that Marilyn Monroe contest?” He minces closer to Peter and lowers his voice to a breathy tone. “And you were wearing your baseball uniform, and then we went out and celebrated on the field, right there on home base, under the stars, all night long?” He trips his fingers up Peter’s chest and looks at him from under his long lashes.

Distantly, Sonny can hear Hasim whispering “all night long?!” to someone.

Peter stares at him transfixed, “Of course I remember that, Sunshine.” He says hoarsely.

Sonny giggles, and Peter shakes his head as if brushing away cobwebs of memory. “God, I miss those days.” He sighs.

Sonny squeezes his shoulder in sympathy. “I know,” he agrees, “things are just so crazy busy with school, right? I mean with the case studies, and then of course there’s Buchanan’s internship, but just think, if we both get it we’ll be working together all the time!”

Peter squints at him. “Wait, what? Sun – Sonny, you can’t be serious.”

Sonny frowns. “Why not?”

Peter waves at him. “I mean, look at you. You don’t exactly look the part. You got kicked out of Buchanan’s class on the first day and he’s a notorious hardass, you can’t really think you’re going to get one of the spots in his internship. You’re just not serious enough, sweetie.”

Sonny takes a step back. “Okay, hang on, I must have inhaled something walking in here, but did we not get into the same law school? We’re taking the same classes? _I got into Harvard_ , Peter, I’m not some dumb himbo.”

Peter puts his hands up, trying to placate Sonny. “I’m not saying that, Sonny, but come on.” His smile takes on a patronizing curve. “I’m just sure you could find something better to do with your time.”

Sonny looks at him, really looks at him, and his heart drops, the weight of it sitting in his stomach like too much raw cookie dough.

“I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?” He asks, his voice small. He brings his hands up to rub at his arms, suddenly cold despite the heat of a full house party.

“Sonny…” Peter’s voice trails off.

“Forget it,” he says, choking the words out. “Just, forget it.”

He pushes his way out of the house and stomps down the sidewalk muttering to himself. “I’m going to show him. I’m going to show all of them just how smart Sonny Carisi is.”

By the time he gets back to campus, he’s swung from righteous indignation to a deep welling sadness, and he’s trudging along the path to his dorm when he hears giggles.

He looks up, expecting more mockery, but this time the laughter is not directed at him.

His classmate Minonna is standing awkwardly, trying to talk to two other women. They’re both wearing Greek-letter sweaters and he recognizes them as belonging to one of the more elite sororities. Minonna on the other hand, is wearing a baggy denim skirt and an oversized army jacket.

Her hair is lighter than it was at orientation and Sonny winces sympathetically. She clearly hadn’t given thought to her undertones when choosing her box of Clairol and she skipped a step with toner when she was bleaching her hair. It’s a brassy reddish-brown that emphasises the red on her cheeks as she tries to stammer out a conversation with the two women.

“Maybe we could go out sometime,” she says. “Like to a movie or something?”

The woman she is directing the question at laughs again. “Really? No way, you’re a total dweeb.”

Minonna tries to stand tall. “I’m in law school,” she says.

The woman rolls her eyes. “Look, I’m not going out with you, and I’m surprised you would even try to ask. Girls like _me_ don’t go out with nobodies like _you_.”

Her friend nods in agreement. “Come on,” she says, dismissing Minonna with a sniff. “Let’s get out of here.”

Before they can leave, Sonny turns and approaches them. In his costume, his hair and makeup done up, he knows his features have softened into a more feminine look.

“Excuse me!” He demands, tapping Minonna on the shoulder.

She turns around and her eyes widen when she sees him. She mouths his name and he winks quickly at her.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asks, putting his hands on his waist and cocking his hip slightly to create a more curvy shape with his body. His voice is pitched higher than normal and it seems to work, the two sorority girls don’t seem to realise he’s not what he appears to be.

“What?” She asks. She looks dumbfounded, but a glance at the other two women shows that they’re interested in seeing where this goes.

“We spent a beautiful night together,” Sonny cries, “and then I never hear from you again?” His mouth wobbles for dramatic effect.

“I’m…sorry?” Minonna responds, still confused.

“Sorry for what?” He presses on. “For breaking my heart, or for giving me the greatest pleasure I’ve ever known and then abandoning me? I woke up and you were _gone_!” He wails.

Her eyes shift to the two women, now standing with their mouths hanging open, and then back to Sonny’s eyes, suspiciously clear of tears.

“Both?” She asks, and he tilts his head in the most infinitesimal nod. “Both.” She repeats, confidently.

“Well, you can forget it.” Sonny huffs, throwing his hair back. “I’ve already wasted too many nights crying into my pillow because of you.”

He spins around and stalks off proudly, his hips swinging. As he walks away, he can hear the sorority girl who had called Minonna a dweeb.

“So…when did you want to see that movie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Serious (Reprise)


	6. I'm gonna be driven as hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned recently how much I love Bex, the beta who tells me to stop hoarding commas and use the occasional em dash? That being said, if anything here is trash, it's because I added it after she read it.

As Sonny keeps walking he feels a warm swelling in his heart that he was able to nudge things along for Minonna. Just because he’s apparently hopeless with his own love life is no reason he can’t still focus his positive energy on other’s. The warmth he feels inside doesn’t extend though, the nights are drawing in and the temperature had dropped while Sonny was still running on the heat of righteous anger, and he wraps his arms around himself as he moves.

“Note to self,” he mutters, “write to Mr. Hefner and ask why the hell his bunnies don’t get cute matching fleece-lined bathrobes.”

As he gets close to his dorm, he spots another familiar face sitting on a bench, crouched over an older-model laptop. As he approaches, he observes the TA in his shabby academic chic. Rafael wears it effortlessly, the kind of worn-out look that Sonny can tell was acquired the old-fashioned way with buying clothes and wearing them until they are faded and falling apart. He’s cute, in a tired kind of way, and he frowns at his computer, his brow furrowed and his tongue just peeking out as he concentrates. Sonny’s taken with the impulse to swipe his thumb over that furrow, to smooth it out. He’s not sure why Rafael would be outside in the cold instead of at home or even the library.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks quietly, standing in front of Rafael.

A nearby streetlight casts Sonny’s shadow over Rafael and he peers up at him. He doesn’t seem to know who Sonny is, and Sonny has lost the energy to pretend, just tugging off his bunny ears and wig and running a hand through his own hair to ruffle out the flatness.

Rafael’s mouth works silently for a minute before he speaks. “What’s up, Doc?” He cracks, and Sonny rolls his eyes, flopping down on the bench next to him. The cold wood causes him to shiver and Rafael quickly peels off his corduroy jacket and alumnus hoodie, handing the hoodie to Sonny and putting the jacket back on.

Sonny burrows into the hoodie, enjoying the warmth of the fleece and the lingering smell infused into the fabric. Rafael’s aftershave, or possibly whatever sandwich left the interesting yellow stain on the kangaroo pocket, smells like something herbal and a little spicy. He nuzzles his nose into the collar and shoves his hands in the pocket to warm up.

“Really, though,” Rafael says, closing his laptop and sliding it into his battered satchel. “What’s with the getup?”

Sonny sighs heavily. “A misunderstanding,” he says with a tight-lipped smile. “I just never seem to learn my lesson, I guess. Came all the way out here for love, and instead I get made a fool of.”

Rafael blinks rapidly. “Sorry, did you say you came out here for love?”

“Yeah,” Sonny says, plucking at a loose thread in one of the sweater cuffs. “I came to Harvard to win back my ex – not that it’s working out very well for me. I’m a laughingstock.”

He looks sideways at Rafael, who isn’t laughing. He looks annoyed though, and Sonny shrinks deeper into the sweater.

“You got into Harvard,” Rafael repeats, “to follow some guy.” He shakes his head. “That might be the most absurd reason I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well why’d you come?” Sonny snarks back.

“To prove something,” Rafael replies simply. “I grew up in the Bronx projects with my mother and her son-of-a-bitch husband, my father, who only ever taught me all the ways I didn’t want to be a man. I swore I’d be nothing like my old man, so I worked my ass off, got a scholarship, and here I am.”

He leans back against the bench. “Another year or two under Buchanan, I’ll make associate and build my reputation, and then I’m going to move back to New York and open my own firm, fight for all the little guys who need a dog in their corner.”

It’s admirable, but Sonny doesn’t want Rafael to know he thinks so, so he sniffs haughtily. “Just because you’ve got a chip on your shoulder doesn’t mean that’s how we _all_ go through life. Anyhow, I’m over the love thing. I’m going to prove to Peter and Trevor that I can be just as serious as them about law stuff.”

“A chip on my shoulder?” Rafael says, chuckling. “Yeah, you’re right. I do have a chip on my shoulder, and it’s what motivates me every day. I haven’t slept more than a few hours a night in almost a decade between school and work, but that’s what it takes to get to where I want to be.”

He flicks one of the drawstrings of his hoodie where it dangles on Sonny’s chest. “If you really want to prove to them that you’ve got what it takes to be serious about ‘law stuff’, you might want to consider developing a chip of your own.”

Sonny is silent for a moment, and then he turns to Rafael, earnestness writ across his face. “Do you think I can? I mean really, do you think I’ve got what it takes?”

Rafael tilts his head back and looks at Sonny consideringly. “I do, Carisi. Deep down, possibly really, very deep down, you’ve got the spark that one in every hundred lawyers has. You just need to put in the work.”

“Like you do,” Sonny says. “Speaking of which, why are you out here this late?”

Rafael shoves his hands in his pockets. “My roommate had his girlfriend over and it was getting too loud. I have a stack of assignments to grade, and the library staff don’t like the way I leave crumbs everywhere.”

He draws one hand out of a pocket and brings with it a half-empty bag of pretzels. He offers it to Sonny who shakes his head. Shrugging, Rafael pops a few into his mouth.

“I think what you really need,” Rafael says as he chews, “is to figure out what it is you like about law. I mean really, what aspect gives you that fizzy feeling in your chest?”

Sonny thinks about it and then shakes his head sadly. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Rafael says confidently.

* * *

“He sounds nice,” Nick says as he buffs Buttons’ nails while Sonny slouches in a chair next to his dog. He’s absently stroking Buttons’ ears, and every time he gets distracted and stops, Buttons huffs and shoves his head back under Sonny’s hand.

“He is,” Sonny agrees. “And he’s right, it’s just. Well, I’ve only wanted to be a lawyer for a little while, and I don’t know what I want to do with it yet. I want something I’m passionate about.”

He looks down at Buttons and puts his hands over the dorkie’s ears. Buttons hates hearing about other dogs who don’t have loving homes like he does. “Maybe someone who defends animal rights,” he whispers.

Nick’s eyes go soft and he nods approvingly. “I like that, fighting for the real underdog.” He sighs as he looks again at the portrait of himself and his poodle. “God, I miss Zara.”

“Your ex still won’t let you visit her?” Sonny asks sympathetically.

Nick shakes his head. “And tomorrow is her birthday. I bet Maria doesn’t even remember.” His face crumples. “I was going to bake her a cake.”

“Why don’t we go together to deliver the cake?” Sonny suggests. “A dog’s birthday should not go unnoticed.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Nick’s mouth twists. “Maria, she doesn’t really like me stopping by.”

“Hey,” Sonny says, “this isn’t about Maria, okay? This is about you and Zara. You deserve to see your baby girl on her big day, Nick. Let’s celebrate!”

Nick thinks about it as he finishes with the dorkie’s nails. “You know what,” he says. “You’re right.” He clenches his jaw resolutely. “I’m going to bake that cake tonight and we’ll go tomorrow.”

He looks at Sonny. “Do you think your friend would come too? Maybe he can give you advice on being a dog lawyer.”

They make plans to meet near Nick’s former home, where his ex still lives, after breakfast tomorrow, and Sonny texts Rafael asking if he’d like to tag along.

Rafael calls him as he’s driving home, and he taps the speaker button so he can talk while driving.

“I’m not sure what your text says,” Rafael says without preamble. He sounds distracted, and Sonny can hear the rustling of pages turning in the background. “Did you mean to imply you were inviting me to a dog’s birthday celebration?”

“That’s right,” Sonny confirms. “And possibly also as moral support. I think Nick’s a bit afraid of going to his ex’s alone.”

“Been there,” Rafael comments wryly. “Alright, sure, why not. It’ll be my fresh air for the day.”

* * *

Nick stands on the sidewalk, his hands shaking as he grips the cake pan.

“I don’t know, Sonny,” he says. “I gotta be honest, Maria kind of scares me.”

“That’s okay!” Sonny reassures him. “Channel that fear. You are a strong, independent man, and Zara deserves to have her daddy in her life.”

“Besides,” Rafael adds, “anyone who bakes their dog a birthday cake deserves nothing less than visitation rights, at the very least.”

Nick looks fondly at the cake in his hands. “It’s even shaped like a bone.” Nick tilts the pan so Rafael and Sonny can admire his artistry.

Sonny pats him on the shoulder. “And that kind of devotion cannot be dismissed.”

They walk up to the house and Sonny knocks primly on the front door.

The door swings open, the knock answered by a striking brunette. She’s classically beautiful, but her features are drawn into a tight severe expression when she sees Nick standing there.

“What are you doing here, Nick?” She asks with a deep sigh – like this isn’t the first time it’s happened.

“It’s Zara’s birthday,” Nick mumbles, holding the cake up protectively in front of his heart. “I just wanted to see her.”

Maria rolls her eyes. “She’s a dog, Nick. She doesn’t have a concept of time, and anyhow, she’s napping. You need to leave, and stop coming around. We’re not getting back together, and it’s starting to get pathetic.”

She closes the door emphatically and Nick’s shoulders slump.

“Ten years,” he says mournfully. “I was with her for ten years, I kept her house when she was overseas, and then she discards me like an old newspaper.”

Sonny puts an arm around his shoulders to comfort him, but Rafael grabs his wrist and pulls him away.

“If they lived together for ten years,” Rafael says, and he widens his eyes meaningfully, waiting for Sonny to put the puzzle pieces together.

He does, and his own eyes widen as he realizes what Rafael is implying.

“Raf, that’s genius!” Sonny exclaims. Rafael mouths “Raf” to himself, not sure when they reached a nickname level of friendship. A small pleased grin crosses his lips as he shrugs and goes along with it.

Sonny returns to the front door and knocks on it louder this time. Nick looks confused as Rafael nudges him with a reassuring smile. The door cracks open again and Maria glares at them. By now Zara has woken up and her nails tap eagerly on the floor when she sees who is outside. Maria uses her hip to nudge the dog back, not letting her wedge her out way out of the door.

“Nick, I told you – ”

“Ms. Grazie, I am Mr. Amaro’s legal counsel,” Sonny says, and Rafael coughs loudly. “Er, that is, _we_ are Mr. Amaro’s legal counsel, and I’m not sure you understand the situation here. Due to sharing the same domicile on record even while you were serving our country overseas, the great Commonwealth of Massachusetts recognizes your 10-year relationship as a common law marriage, which entitles him to an equitable division of property.”

He looks at Rafael, who nods. Maria’s head swivels between them.

“You want to explain that again? In English?” She asks. Nick is watching Sonny, almost holding his breath as he waits for the verdict.

“It means we’re taking the dog!” Sonny pushes the door so that it swings open, and Zara runs out in a flash, front paws up on Nick’s torso and her snout tilted up as she licks at his chin with all the enthusiasm of an overgrown puppy.

Nick just manages to shove the cakepan into Rafael’s hands before putting his hands under Zara’s tail and fully lifting her into his embrace. Maria stares at them for a few seconds and then throws her hands up, slamming the door shut on the tableau.

As they walk away, Nick’s voice is choked with tears and muffled by Zara’s hair as he thanks them.

“Oh Sonny, look at her, look how happy she is, oh my perfect sweet little sailor angel! This is the nicest thing anybody’s ever done for me!”

Sonny watches Nick and Zara fondly and then slowly stops moving as something occurs to him, a feeling that tingles through his fingertips and into his body. He turns to Rafael, his face glowing with elation.

“Is this…was that, _law_? Is this the point of law? I’m feeling kind of…” He waggles his fingers, unable to come up with the right adjective for how he feels.

Rafael snorts. “High?” He suggests, and Sonny snaps his fingers and points at him.

“Yes, that! This is why we do all the work, to help people like Nick and Zara! I get it now!”

Rafael squeezes his shoulder. “Welcome to law, Sonny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Chip on My Shoulder


	7. We will see who walks the walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bex's beta comments continue to be the reason I exist.
> 
> Sonny and Peter's class debate is very much right out of the script, and I suggest you all go watch the scene on Youtube because it's a great moment.

It seems like the entire class is waiting for one of them to break into either tears or fists as Sonny and Peter go head-to-head over a hypothetical that Buchanan has introduced. What happens instead is far more becoming of two future lawyers.

“If we’re sticking to past precedent, in which a private sperm donor was allowed visitation rights as long as he agreed to the terms of the custodial parents, Mr. Latimer was not stalking. He was well within his rights to ask for visitation.” Peter says.

Buchanan tilts his head, throwing a wrench into Peter’s statement. “Except that the case in precedent involved a one-time sperm donor known to the parents and Mr. Latimer was a habitual donor, who chose to donate anonymously.”

“Sure,” Peter grants, “but without this man’s sperm, the child in question wouldn’t exist.”

Buchanan beams at him. “And now you’re thinking like a lawyer.”

Trevor looks proudly at Peter, who grins bashfully.

Sonny raises his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Carisi?” Buchanan asks.

“Mr. Stone makes an excellent point,” Sonny acknowledges, “but I have to wonder if the defendant kept a thorough record of every sperm emission made over the course of his life.”

Buchanan leans back against his desk and folds his arms. “Interesting thought, why would you ask?”

“Because,” Sonny says, “unless Mr. Latimer attempted to contact every single one-night stand to determine if those unions resulted in children, he has no parental claim to this child. Why now? Why this sperm?”

Buchanan strokes his chin. “I see your point.”

“Furthermore,” Sonny is warming up to the subject, and he leans forward in his seat, “by this same reasoning, all masturbatory emissions where his sperm was clearly not seeking an egg, could be considered reckless abandonment.” He catches Rafael’s eye, the TA is seated in the corner of the room observing. Rafael’s mouth tugs into a half smile and Sonny sits back in his seat, confident in his argument.

“Well,” Buchanan says. “I believe you just won your case.”

Sonny pumps his fist under the desk, even as Trevor and Peter exchange eye rolls.

When class lets out, Buchanan stops Sonny on his way out.

“Mr. Carisi, you did well today.”

“Really?” Sonny asks. He’d felt good about holding his own, but it means a lot to have confirmation from his professor.

“Really,” he says. “You’re applying for my internship, aren’t you?”

Sonny chews at his lip. “I don’t know.” He wants to, but he still has Peter’s patronizing voice in his head telling him he’s not serious enough.

“You should. Do you have a resumé?”

“Oh! Yes, I do.” He rummages through his satchel and pulls out a set of pale pink papers paperclipped together. He hands it to his professor just as Rafael walks up to them. He smiles shyly to Rafael before leaving the classroom.

“It’s pink.” Buchanan states, staring at the papers. He raises them to his nose and sniffs lightly. “And scented.”

He hands the resumé to Rafael, who sniffs it. “Chanel No. 5,” he says. Buchanan shoots him an incredulous look and he shrugs. “It’s a classic.”

Buchanan looks at the door and Sonny’s retreating back, before returning his gaze to Rafael.

“You know, on his first day, I would have tossed this in the recycling. I can’t deny it though, he’s got potential. Make sure we keep this at the top of the pile.”

Rafael nods, bringing it up to his nose once more to sniff before sliding it carefully into his bag.

* * *

“Did you hear?!” Minonna’s voice is hushed as she rushes into the crowd of students waiting for class to begin.

“Hear what?” Sonny hears Trevor ask. He looks over, also curious about what has her sounding so breathless.

“Buchanan’s firm has been hired for a big murder trial and they’re going to need extra help. He’s posting the internship today!”

Everyone starts to murmur excitedly and then fall silent as Buchanan stalks into the classroom, Rafael right behind him. Buchanan sticks the internship list up on the blackboard and then stands back as everyone rushes to see who made the cut.

“Congratulations to four of you,” his voice booms out. “As for the rest of you, welcome to the middle. Rafael,” he looks over at his assistant. “I’m making you second chair. Prove yourself on this trial and you’ve got “associate” written all over you.

“Yes, sir!” Rafael says. Buchanan strides off, and Rafael looks around.

“Class dismissed,” he says faintly.

“Rafael!” Sonny says, “I’m so proud of you, this is just what you wanted!”

Rafael gazes up at him, a small smile hovering on his face. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Thanks.”

Everyone is hovering around the blackboard, craning to see the few names listed.

“Oh, Peter! We got the internship!” Trevor jumps up and down.

“What? Really?” Peter stares at him.

“Yes!” He wraps his arms around Peter, hugging him tightly. “Oh, it’s just like we planned!”

“It’s perfect,” Peter says. “And this is only the beginning.” He gets down on one knee, a ring box suddenly open in his hand.

“Trevor, will you make this the happiest day of my life?”

Trevor’s hand flies up to his mouth as he accepts, pulling Peter up into an embrace. The ring’s diamond catches on the fluorescent ceiling lights and shimmers, casting brilliance into Sonny’s eyes.

Sonny stands frozen as the rest of his classmates rush to surround Peter and Trevor, congratulating them and admiring Trevor’s ring. At first he thinks he is numb, but then he realizes it isn’t so much the absence of all feeling as it is the absence of certain feelings. As he watches, he doesn’t feel a single spark, not a single lick of sorrow, of dismay, or disappointment. He feels nothing for Peter.

Rafael nudges him, and he shakes out of his epiphany.

“You okay?” Rafael asks him, tilting his head to the happy couple.

“Yeah,” Sonny says, testing out the theory by verbalizing it. “Yeah, I really am.”

“You should look at the internship list.” Rafael urges. “That chip on your shoulder just got a power-up.”

Sonny looks at him and sees warm green eyes smiling back at him, encouraging. He goes over to the blackboard and right there in black and white he sees it, Carisi comma Sonny.

“Oh my god,” he says, dazed. And then as the absence of feeling is overtaken by pride and excitement, a little louder. “Oh my GOD!” He turns and grabs Rafael in a hug, which the other man accepts after a surprised “oof!”

“I couldn’t have done this without you, Raf,” Sonny says, squeezing him tightly. “Thank you.”

“Thank yourself,” Raf says, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. “You’re the one who did the work.”

Sonny whirls around and walks over to Peter, who is standing with Trevor, both of them in a state of shock that Sonny will be joining them for the internship.

He gets up close to Peter, running a finger up the line of shirt buttons to his collar, which he thoughtfully adjusts.

“Peter, do you remember that Spring Break in Cabo, where we stayed on that private beach and didn’t pack any bathing suits?”

“Yeah?” He says, flushing at the memory. His mouth is open slightly, but he snaps it shut when he catches Trevor’s eye. “I mean, no.”

Sonny smirks. “This is going to be just like that. Only funner!”

He turns to Trevor and holds his hand out. “Congratulations, Trevor. On the internship and the engagement.” He means it, and Trevor seems uncertain as to how to respond to that level of sincerity from someone he’s spent months mocking.

“Um. Thanks. You too, on the internship.” He takes Sonny’s hand and they shake once.

Sonny beams a wide smile at them both. “I don’t know about you two, but I think good news and a cancelled class deserves a celebration!”

For Sonny, that means picking up lunch from his new favourite sushi shop and bringing it to The Nail Bar to tell Nick all about what’s just happened.

* * *

Nick takes his lunch break to sit and eat with Sonny, eagerly eating up Sonny’s update on the internship and his new non-feelings for Peter as much as the lobster sushi.

“So you’re really over him?” Nick says as he dips his nigiri into a little dish of soy sauce.

Sonny watches in horror as Nick dips his piece rice-side down and bites it in half.

“Yeah,” he says absently. Buttons and Zara are also watching Nick eat, ever-hopeful of pieces falling to the floor.

“And that Rafael, you were right, he _is_ pretty great.” Nick adds casually.

“It’s not like that,” Sonny waves his chopsticks in the air. “He’s just a friend.”

“Sure, a friend. Wish I had a friend like that,” Nick waggles his eyebrows.

The door opens with the tinkle of a new bell – the jangling of the old one had bothered Zara’s sensitive ears, Nick had explained – and in walks the UPS Guy, a thick envelope under his arm. He looks around and smiles broadly when he catches sight of Nick.

Nick looks like he is about to swallow his tongue, and Sonny is quick to slide a napkin under his hand before he can fumble and drop his food onto the table or into the mouth of a waiting dog.

“I’ve got a package for Nick Amaro,” UPS Guy says, and Nick’s employee points him towards the stylist. As he saunters over to them, Sonny takes a moment to thank God and leg day, which this man has definitely never once missed in his life.

“Nick Amaro?” He asks, and Sonny helpfully points to Nick, who is staring up at the man. “I’m Mike, I’m pretty new to this route.”

He holds out a signature pad, and when Nick doesn’t move, Sonny leans over and nudges his hand so it falls onto the device and scrawls an X across the signature line.

As he holds out the envelope, which Sonny takes, because Nick is still frozen, Buttons and Zara have come to sniff at the man’s ankles with interest.

“Aw, hey babies!” He croons, and he turns, bending over to greet them.

Nick does finally choke on his tongue, the man’s ass nearly in his face, the fabric taut against a pert behind.

“I love dogs,” he says, turning to look back at them. His voice is deep and melodic, but it turns cooing when he talks to the dogs, and Sonny is pretty sure Nick’s about half a second away from passing out.

“Actually,” Mike says, looking directly at Nick, his eyes upturned and biting at his lip a bit. “I have my baby in the truck, would it be okay if I brought her in for a fresh bowl of water?”

That catches Nick’s attention, because even in the face of scorching hotness, he can’t let a dog go thirsty.

“Of course,” he gushes. “We are a very animal-friendly establishment!”

Mike’s smile showcases perfect straight teeth as he stands up and leaves the shop to go get his dog.

The minute the door closes behind him, Nick turns to Sonny with absolute terror writ across his face.

“Oh my god,” he says. “Oh my god, oh my god.”

“That is not a man with a wife and kids,” Sonny says wisely. “No straight man drives around in shorts that tight. Besides, did you see the way he was looking at you? With the lip bite?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Nick groans, dropping his head into his hands. Zara pads over and plops her head on his knee.

Sonny looks at his friend and understands in an instant what’s going on.

“Gay panic, huh,” he says knowingly.

Nick stares at him, the panic growing. “Is it obvious? Do you think he can tell?”

“Hey,” Sonny reassures him. “It’s okay.”

Buttons lets out a single authoritative bark as the door opens again and Mike walks back in carrying what looks like a very small fluffy ball of yarn. He has the dog cradled in one arm and it doesn’t even reach the length of his forearm.

“Oh,” Nick says softly, and Sonny can practically see the imploring anime eyes emoji taking over his face.

“Hi again,” Mike says, his chest puffing out as he shows off his dog. “This is my little princess, PA.” He winks at Nick. “It stands for Package Arrived.”

He’s standing right in front of them, and his brown shorts are just as snug across the front of his groin and thick thighs as they were across his ass.

“Yeah, it has,” Nick says dreamily. Sonny kicks him under the table and he blinks, shaking his head. “I mean um, she’s beautiful! She can use Zara’s bowl, it’s over by the um, the uh, the nail polish display.”

Mike deposits the Pomeranian carefully on the floor in front of a large display of nail polish bottles, arranged in an ombre rainbow. He looks at the offerings thoughtfully.

“Excuse me,” he says to Nick, “I couldn’t help but admire the portrait of you and your dog last time I was here.” He points to the large framed image of Nick and Zara in their sailor hats. “I like your matching nails.”

“No one ever noticed that before!” Nick says. “I used special dog-friendly polish on Zara.”

“Do you think you could do something like that for me and PA?” Mike asks. PA has finished drinking and toddles back over to them, yipping to be picked up again. As he lifts her, Sonny notices that one of her paws has a big black spot in it, altering her otherwise pure-white coat.

“Absolutely!” Nick says.

Sonny tidies away the remains of their lunch. With the help of a topic he’s comfortable discussing, Nick’s found the ability to talk to Mike, and Sonny doesn’t think his presence is required anymore.

“I’d better go,” Sonny says, waving to get Nick’s attention. “I still need to read up on the case Buchanan’s firm is trying _and_ figure out what to wear for my first day tomorrow!”

“Bye,” Nick says distractedly. Sonny smirks as he and Buttons leave the salon.

“Looks like he might have found a special guy, huh Buttons?” He says as they drive off. Buttons looks at him from the passenger seat.

“Yeah, I don’t need one of those,” Sonny agrees, reaching over to give the dorkie a rub between the ears. “You’re my special guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PA is borrowed with permission from Gayle. In their story, PA stands for Pupper Actual. No matter the name, PA's the cutest dang pompom out there.
> 
> Chapter title from So Much Better


	8. Who has a bond as strong as Krazy Glue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Clara for helping me with West Coast vs East Coast differences, hashtag sand should be brown.
> 
> This continues to exist entirely because my beta Bex is amazing and I love her even if she does keep making me replace commas with em dashes.

Sonny looks in the mirror, giving himself a satisfied look as he prepares to leave for his first day at Buchanan’s internship. He’s dressed more somber than usual – a charcoal grey suit with a white shirt. The only hints of colour are a striped navy blue tie and a pale pink pocket square.

Buchanan’s one brief for their first day had been to make sure they looked the part. He almost never wore colour, except for the very occasional printed tie. Sonny hopes this passes muster – he shivers at the thought of having to buy a black suit. He straightens his tie, firming up the knot, and pats Buttons on the head before he goes.

Buttons watches him leave, sighs heavily, turns around, and goes back to sleep.

Sonny’s envious, he’d barely gotten any sleep last night. He’s too nervous, or excited, or maybe both. Buchanan’s firm is one of the most prominent defense firms in the region, and if this internship goes well, Sonny is almost _guaranteed_ a job after graduation.

He stops at Starbucks on his way in, picking up first-day iced coffees for himself and his classmates. Minonna thanks him shyly, Peter accepts his as his due, and Trevor takes his with a confused smile.

“Good morning,” Buchanan greets them as he swans in, moving to the head of the table in the small conference room. Rafael follows behind, sliding files to each of the interns before taking a seat near the head of the table. Buchanan clicks a remote to a large television and a series of crime scene photos flash across the screen.

“As you’ve all heard, we’ve got a new case. I don’t think I need to tell you, what you see and hear here is confidential.” He glares around the room. “Now then, meet our client, Rita Calhoun.”

He points the remote and the photos fade out to show two new photos, one mugshot and one glamour shot. She looks vaguely familiar to Sonny, but he’s unable to place her in his mind.

“What did she do?” Peter snorts. “She doesn’t exactly look like a criminal mastermind.”

“As her defense team, as far as we are concerned, she hasn’t done _anything_.” Buchanan reminds him. “But she’s been accused of killing her husband, one James Rollins.” Another photo on the screen now, showing Rita in a wedding dress, gazing lovingly at an older man. A _much_ older man, easily thirty-five years older than her.

“A gold-digger?” Trevor asks, looking at the display.

“Here’s what we know,” Rafael says. “James’s daughter Amanda found Rita standing over her father’s dead body. He was shot once in the chest, at close range. Forensics matched the bullet to a gun found in the pool, but the pool chemicals destroyed any fingerprints.”

“Does she have an alibi?” Minonna asks, flipping through the file. There are forensic results, statements from Rita and her stepdaughter Amanda as well as other witnesses, and a coroner’s report.

“If she has one, she’s refusing to share it.” Buchanan sounds frustrated. “And quite frankly, without it, I believe she’s as guilty as she looks.”

Sonny looks up, shocked. “You’re her defense lawyer,” he says. “Aren’t you supposed to assume she’s innocent?”

Buchanan laughs. “No, Mr. Carisi, I just have to convince twelve other people that she is.”

Sonny frowns. Rafael catches his eye and shakes his head. It’s not worth arguing.

“She looks really familiar,” Peter says, looking at the screen.

“Prior to becoming Mrs. James Rollins, she was a television model,” Barba says. “Like the ones that hold briefcases on Deal or No Deal. After meeting Rollins at an industry event, they eloped after a one-month courtship and she’s spent the past three years chairing committees and organizing fundraisers with the other socialite-turned-philanthropist type Real Housewives of Boston.”

“Hang on,” Sonny says slowly. “I think I recognize her too.” He looks more carefully at the screen, mentally taking her out of the wedding dress and putting her in casual wear. “She’s a Delta Nu! She was the outgoing president of my chapter when I was a freshman.”

“Really,” Buchanan draws out the word. “We can use that. Rafael, you and Mr. Carisi are going to visit her in the jail. Maybe she’ll give her alibi up to a sorority sibling.”

He turns to the others. “Ms. Efron, you’re on forensics. Go over the evidence and see what we can get thrown out. Misters Stone and Langan, you two follow up on the witness statements, see if there are any holes in their stories.”

* * *

In person, Rita exudes elegance, even in an orange jumpsuit. She shakes Rafael and Sonny’s hands coolly before waving them to sit in front of her at a round table in the prison courtyard.

“Ms. Calhoun, my name is Rafael Barba, from Buchanan, Biegel, & D’Angelo. This is Sonny Carisi, one of our brightest interns, and we’re here to reassure you that your case is our utmost priority.”

Rita considers him with an arched eyebrow. She doesn’t look impressed as she turns her gaze to Sonny. “Do I know you?” She asks. Her voice is low and throaty.

Sonny holds his hand up, waggling his pinky so she can see his Delta Nu ring. Her eyes brighten at that and she gives him her hand again so they can do the sacred secret handshake. Once complete, she looks from him to Rafael.

“Okay, so what do you want to know?”

“We have your statement, but it would be helpful if we could go over it again with you.” Barba says. He sets a small tape recorder down between them on the table.

She sighs. “Of course,” she says. “I was out that afternoon. I came home, I saw my husband lying on the floor. I thought maybe he’d had a heart attack. I leaned down, saw the gunshot, screamed my head off, and then Amanda and Odafin came in.”

Barba stops her. “Your stepdaughter ran down from the upstairs, and the pool boy came in from the backyard, correct?”

She nods.

“And they both found you kneeling over his body with blood on your hands.”

“I didn’t kill him.” She says, glaring at him. “I loved my husband. Why would I kill him?”

He puts his hands up placatingly. “Insurance, an affair, hatred. The prosecutor will come up with any number of reasons. He was twice your age, that doesn’t look good to a jury.”

“So show them a picture of his dick,” she sneers.

He sighs. “Ms. Calhoun, I believe you, but the jury is going to want an alibi.”

She sits back, arms folded tightly against her chest. “I can’t give you that, and if you put me on the stand, I’ll lie.”

“We can’t help you if you won’t help yourself.” Barba says, and she leans forward angrily.

“You’re supposed to prove I’m innocent. If you’re not going to do that, you need to leave.”

Barba shakes his head, turning off the recorder and sliding it into his briefcase. Before he can stand up, Sonny puts a hand on his arm.

“Ms. Calhoun, I know you’re innocent.” He says earnestly, leaning in, his body language open to her and closed off to Rafael.

She sniffs. “Well, at least _someone_ on my defense team has a brain.”

Barba scoffs, and Sonny ignores him. “But if you have an alibi, we _need_ to know it.” He says.

Her face falls. “You don’t understand, Sonny. I _can’t_ tell you. It’s my darkest secret.”

Sonny nods understandingly. “Everyone has secrets.” He lowers his voice. “I was once so hungover from an end-of-summer beach party that I accidentally wore white after Labor Day.” He nods solemnly at her shocked face. “But is it a secret worth going to prison for?”

The tense set of Rita’s shoulders drops as she gives in to the truth of his question. She shoots a look at Barba and Sonny turns to him.

“Maybe you should wait for me outside,” he says. Barba stares at him incredulously.

“I’ll tell Sonny,” Rita says. “But only Sonny. And you have to _swear_ you won’t tell anyone else.”

Sonny holds out his hand, ring-bearing pinky extended. “Delta Nu sibling swear.” He vows.

Barba shakes his head but gets up to leave, and as soon as he’s gone, Rita turns back to Sonny and leans in with her voice hushed.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to move from California to New England and feel like all the sunshine and colour has been sucked out of your life?” She asks.

“Yes,” Sonny says fervently. “You think I managed to maintain this tan naturally? I’ve been going to a _tanning salon_ ,” he whispers. “I had to _ask_ a store clerk where the sunscreen was recently and she was all ‘but it’s January,’ as if skin care stops being important just because there’s snow on the ground!”

“I really did love James,” Rita says sadly. “But god, the other wives at the country club were so bad. And his ex-wife Beth was the worst of them all. I could feel them judging me no matter what. My clothes were too bright, my voice was too bubbly, everything I did was too Beverly Hills.”

Her voice trembles, and Sonny hands her a tissue from his bag. She dabs at her eyes delicately. “It was like they hated me just for being new money.”

“I totally understand,” Sonny says, putting his hand out in case she wants to grip it. She does so, giving him a small grateful smile. “My ex Peter, he’s also on your case, he broke up with me because his family didn’t want him to marry someone who wasn’t like, at least a fourth-generation country club member.”

“The day James died,” Rita begins, her voice so low she’s almost whispering. Sonny leans in close to hear her, but her next words come out muffled.

“What?” He asks. She sighs and waves him closer.

“I was having a browlift!” She hisses, and he rears back. She covers her face in shame. “It was an outpatient procedure, and I checked in under a pseudonym.”

“Rita, that’s not something to be ashamed of!” Sonny exclaims. “And I can’t even tell, honestly, your doctor is amazing.”

She preens at that. “I know. And I’m not ashamed, but it can’t get out. Beth and the other Real Housewives of Boston Brahmin already think I’m LA trash, if they found out I was having work done they’d shun me right out of society. Have you seen them, Sonny? They age naturally here!”

She grips his hand again, and he winces at the chipped polish of her manicure. He’ll make sure Nick is able to see her before the trial begins, because no Delta Nu should be placing their hand on a bible and swearing to tell the truth with ragged cuticles.

“You have to help me, Sonny.” She says. “I don’t belong in prison.”

“I know,” Sonny says. “Buchanan is a really good lawyer, I am sure he’ll be able to get you out of this even without the alibi.”

* * *

“We can’t get her out of this without that alibi.” Buchanan curses. “Sonny, you have to tell us what it is so we can follow up.”

Sonny shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I swore a sacred sibling oath.” He says. “But if it helps, it’s a really good alibi.”

“It doesn’t help at all.” Buchanan sneers at him.

“Sonny,” Peter says, coming up behind him and wrapping an arm around him. It’s probably meant to be comforting and familiar, but it feels like an awkward weight on his shoulders and he slides out from under it.

“I know you share a bond over the whole Delta Nu thing, but come on. We’re all on the same team,” Peter gestures to the group. “And you have to admit, not giving us the alibi _really_ doesn’t help her look any less guilty.”

From the corner of his eye Sonny notices Trevor frowning at Peter.

“I’m sorry,” Sonny says again. “We’re just going to have to work around it. I won’t give up her alibi without her permission.”

* * *

Sonny is in line at the coffee cart outside Hauser Hall when Trevor approaches him.

“Hey,” he says cautiously. “You want something?”

Trevor looks briefly at the menu and shakes his head. “I actually wanted to tell you, um. I really can’t believe you wouldn’t give Buchanan the alibi.”

Sonny shoots a look at him. “It’s not my alibi to give.”

“I know.” Trevor’s hands are tucked into his coat. “And I thought it was really classy of you.”

“Really?” Sonny takes his coffee and moves out of the way of the queue. Trevor follows alongside him.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “I think it shows a real strength of character.”

“Well, thanks.” Sonny doesn’t know what else to say.

Trevor squints up at the sun thoughtfully and then looks at the drink in Sonny’s hand.

“Did you ever notice that Buchanan never asks Peter to bring him his coffee? He always asks Minonna to do it.”

Sonny rolls his eyes. “Straight men are helpless, you must know that.”

“I know,” Trevor laughs. “I think sometimes Peter forgets he’s not one of them. He doesn’t even do his own laundry.”

“Still?!” Sonny rolls his eyes again. “He used to get the Delta Nu pledges to do it.”

“He gets it sent out here. And did you know…” He trails off, shuts his mouth.

“What?” Sonny asks.

Trevor looks around and lowers his voice. “When Peter first applied, he got wait-listed.”

Sonny is shocked. “You’re kidding!”

Trevor shakes his head, his eyes gleaming. “His father had to make a call.”

“No way!” Sonny feels a wave of indignation roll through him at that news. Peter had delighted in making him feel like the dumb one, when he had only gotten in because of his father!

Buttons is indignant too, if the huffed bark from his bag is any indication.

“Oh!” Trevor looks down and sees Buttons poking his nose out. “What a beautiful dog!”

“His name is Buttons,” Sonny says, opening the zipper and letting Buttons wriggle into his arms. “Do you want to hold him? He’s very friendly.”

“Sure,” Trevor says, and Buttons leaps into his arms almost immediately. “Oh!” He laughs, “he’s giving me kisses!”

Sonny watches Buttons lick at Trevor’s face enthusiastically. The dog had never warmed up to Peter so quickly, he thinks. As Trevor catches his eye and smiles shyly, Sonny smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Delta Nu Nu Nu
> 
> To the reader who was looking forward to seeing who would be Brooke - surprise! I knew from the get that I wanted Rita in the role, although her storyline would need to be heavily modified. I hope it works.


	9. Become what you're supposed to be

“Sonny, could you hang back a moment?”

Sonny is on his way out of the conference room and he pauses in his step, moving back into the room to look at Rafael. He is standing by the table, eyes down on his worn leather satchel as he buckles it.

“Yeah, what do you need?” He wonders if Raf needs help with research, or maybe he’s going to ask Sonny to take on some more of the paperwork, as he needs to balance his co-counsel position with his job as Buchanan’s TA at the same time.

Rafael looks up at him, biting his lip. “I need a favour, and I want you to know you can absolutely say no if it’s too much.”

Sonny stares at him. “That’s an intense introduction to asking for help,” he jokes. “You need me to help you hide a body?”

Rafael lets out a startled laugh. “No, no, nothing quite so dramatic. It’s um, well. It’s my wardrobe.” He gestures vaguely to himself. “Buchanan’s after me to polish up before the trial actually begins. There’s going to be a heavy media presence at the courthouse, and we need to put on a good face for the firm.”

Sonny tilts his head consideringly. Rafael’s suit is too big on him, but it’s the kind of oversized that speaks to weight loss and lack of a tailor, not an intentional fashion choice. He generally sticks to neutral academic colours and fabrics, but occasionally he’ll show up in a patterned tie that gives Sonny hope for a willingness to branch out.

“Oh Rafael,” Sonny grins at him, his eyes wide and excited. “I am honoured you would ask me for help! I can absolutely help, and I know just the place to begin. Let’s go!”

Rafael blinks at him. “Now?”

“No better time,” Sonny taps his foot impatiently. “Come on, we’ll talk fashion in the car.”

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” Rafael mumbles as he follows Sonny out of the building.

* * *

“Where are we?” Rafael shuffles closer to Sonny, almost as if he is afraid to leave the other man’s side. He looks around, his eyes big as he tries to take it all in.

“It’s a department store,” Sonny nudges him. “Think Walmart, but with more escalators and less camping equipment.”

A woman approaches them, hand outstretched to offer them small scented cardboard samplers. Feeling Rafael freeze, Sonny waves a refusal at her and guides his friend through the perfume counters to the escalator that will take them down to the menswear.

On the drive over, they’d discussed what Rafael was looking for – or rather, Sonny had asked, Rafael had stared at him uncomprehendingly, and Sonny had then listed colours and patterns while Rafael said yes or no.

“If we were back in Los Angeles, we’d go from the department store to my personal tailor,” Sonny comments as he starts plucking things off of racks. “But most good department stores do offer alterations onsite.” He eyes Rafael’s body, making guesses about his measurements.

Rafael puts a hand out tentatively, brushing his fingers along the soft pile of a velvet jacket. He chokes a little when he turns the price tag over, looking at Sonny.

“Sonny, I don’t know if I can afford more than a pair of socks here!”

“Here,” he says, thrusting a pile of items into Rafael’s arms and ignoring his protests. Sonny takes the lead, guiding them around the floor as he continues to pick items, adding them to the pile in Rafael’s arms.

When he can barely see Rafael’s face over the heap of clothing, he points Rafael to the dressing room.

Rafael looks down at the pile and then up at Sonny’s face. He can see that he’s got no say in the matter, so he heads into the dressing room with a sigh. He doesn’t let the subject drop, though.

“Seriously, do they do installment plans? I don’t think I’ve ever paid this much for a single item of clothing before.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sonny says. He’s looking at ties on display, with one particularly colourful specimen catching his eye. He holds it up to himself and looks in a mirror. He’s not sure what it will go with yet, but it’s so perfectly him, he can’t pass it up.

He turns back to the door of the dressing room, still shut. “You’re the reason I even stuck it out here, y’know? Consider this my thank you gift.”

The door swings open and Rafael steps out cautiously. He’s wearing a black suit with a white shirt, and he’s just tightening the knot on a black, purple, and silver diagonal striped tie.

He looks more polished than he’s looked in all the time Sonny has known him. “Wow,” Sonny says.

Rafael walks over to the floor-length mirror by the tie display and stares at himself in it. “Wow,” he repeats. “I look like Peter.”

He’s not wrong, the somewhat somber suit and only subtly colourful tie is very much to Peter’s style.

“Yeah,” Sonny agrees. “But better, because it’s you.” It’s a simple statement, but weighted with meaning. No matter the coats of polish, Peter is half the man Rafael has shown himself to be.

They both consider the outfit a moment longer. As good as it looks, it doesn’t sit exactly right on Rafael, but Sonny’s not sure what’s missing. He lets his eyes skim down Rafael’s body and they catch on the nearly imperceptible bulge of a dangling belt-end at his waistline.

He looks around and spots a rack of suspenders. He picks a basic pair, a blue so dark it’s almost black, and brings them back to Rafael.

“Have you ever worn these?” He asks, and Rafael shakes his head as he removes his jacket.

Sonny helps him with the button attachments, smoothing his shirt out underneath the braces. Rafael swings the jacket back on and they consider the look again. The suit is still too solemn, Sonny thinks. Too serious, it doesn’t reflect the boyish charm or snarky attitude Rafael has.

“I like the suspenders,” Rafael offers.

Sonny agrees, his fingers tracing the way they frame Rafael’s torso. “They make you look taller, which will give you more presence in court.”

His fingers stop when he realizes he is basically groping Rafael in front of the mirror. He coughs and removes his hand, the elastic of the suspender jumping as he pulls away.

“I don’t know about the rest of it though. I’m not Peter.” It sounds like something Raf is telling himself more than Sonny.

“No,” Sonny says. “You’re not. And I’m glad for that.” He smiles, because the longer he thinks about it the more true it becomes. He’d hated shopping with Peter, who would say “that looks nice” about everything Sonny would point out, and then come out with yet another solid coloured suit jacket and basic monochrome patterned tie.

He’d never really listened to Sonny.

Rafael, on the other hand, is listening, is giving way to Sonny’s expertise but he is also sticking firm to what he knows he likes and does not like. It seems to be how he goes through life in general, happy to float in the stream but always aware of where land is and what he needs to do to get there.

Rafael is nothing like Peter, and standing next to him in the middle of a department store, Sonny realizes something he hadn’t stopped to consider before now. He enjoys himself when he spends time with Rafael. He enjoys _himself_ , the version of himself that Rafael draws out. He doesn’t feel like he needs to dumb himself down, to be the fun light arm candy Peter had always wanted to show off.

_Holy shit_ , he thinks. _I like Rafael Barba_. He bites his tongue to make sure he doesn’t accidentally say it out loud, but Raf doesn’t seem to notice he’s having a life-altering epiphany. He’s too busy looking over the remaining outfits and he’s talking but the words aren’t registering in Sonny’s ears.

“What do you think about this one for the first day of trial? Serious, but still a bit of whimsy with the tie, right?”

He’s holding a suit up for Sonny’s approval and Sonny nods without really looking at it. How can he think about clothing choices when he’s too busy overanalyzing every interaction he and Barba have ever had?

* * *

On the first day of Rita’s trial, Sonny is too caught up in the momentum to think about Rafael, which is good, because there’s a collective gasp from the team when he struts into the courtroom in the outfit he’d put together with Sonny’s help, and it helps cover up his own tiny squeak when he looks up and sees the full effect.

Rafael spins proudly for them. He’s wearing a dark blue three-piece suit with the faintest pinstripe, and tucked into the vest is a blue and golden yellow striped tie. The colours somehow perfectly frame the green of his eyes, and they shine like polished jade as he accepts everyone’s compliments on his new look.

Seeing him side-by-side with Peter, the comparison to Sonny’s ex continues to shine in Rafael’s favour. He wears his new look with confidence, while Peter looks like he’s wearing one of his father’s suits. It’s impeccably tailored, of course, but it still doesn’t quite sit right on his shoulders.

Buchanan is eyeing his co-counsel like a shark looking for the weak spot in a life-raft, and not finding one, he nods approvingly.

“It’s a good look, Barba.” He says.

“It’s all thanks to Sonny,” Rafael says. “He took me shopping.”

“You look sharp, Rafael.” Trevor offers, and Minonna nods in agreement.

“So do you, Sonny,” Minonna adds. He ducks his head and smooths his tie, glad to have the look affirmed by one of his more serious peers. He’s worked hard to balance his sartorial preferences and love of colour with the solemn affect that the East Coast seems to demand of its citizens, especially in the law profession.

His suit today is a charcoal grey with a thin pinstripe. He’s foregone the pocket square or contrasting patterns, choosing a monochrome purple palette for his shirt and tie. The shirt is a solid lilac and the tie is a deeper plum covered in delicate white spots.

He takes a seat in the first row behind the defense counsel’s table and watches as Buchanan and Barba consult with Rita while they wait for the judge to enter the room. The prosecution is planning to call the pool boy as their first witness, and Sonny flips open his notes to refresh his memory on the man’s story.

Pool boy is a misnomer really, Odafin Tutuola is at least Sonny’s age, and has been in charge of the general outdoor maintenance for James Rollins’s estate for the past two years. His initial witness statement doesn’t add much to the story – he’d been in the pool shed when he’d heard Ms. Calhoun scream. When he’d arrived, Rita had been on her knees next to his employer’s dead body. He claims not to know how the murder weapon had wound up in the pool without him hearing the splash or seeing her in the yard.

Odafin is sworn in, and the prosecutor begins her questioning by leading him through the events of that day, before she switches gears.

“Mr. Tutuola,” the prosecutor smiles genially at him as she holds up a clear evidence bag with a small article of clothing in it. “Would you please tell us what this is?”

He leans into the microphone. “My uniform.”

She holds the bag up higher so everyone can see it. The scrap of fabric is clearly no bigger than a thong.

“And was it Ms. Calhoun’s idea for you to wear this…uniform?”

He leans into the microphone again. “Yeah.”

Buchanan turns to Rita, his brow raised. She meets his raised brow with one of her own and shrugs. “What, I liked to have something to look at while I was tanning.”

He shakes his head and returns his attention to the prosecutor’s line of questioning.

“Mr. Tutuola, would you please tell the court, what was the exact nature of your relationship with Rita Calhoun?”

He smirks and leans forward one more time, a smooth leonine motion. “Me and Rita were _lovers_.”

A flurry of whispers builds into a low buzz of noise and Judge Barth bangs her gavel, calling for order.

Buchanan is nearly red with apoplexy. “You were _sleeping with the pool boy?!_ ” He hisses.

Rita looks as shocked as anyone and she shakes her head fervently. “I wasn’t! I was faithful to James!”

She twists in her seat to look at Sonny. “You know a Delta Nu would never sleep with a man who wears a thong!”

“Well, this Delta Nu is making me look incompetent!” Buchanan grits through his teeth. He turns back to the judge. “Your honour, we request a brief recess so that I can consult with my client about this new…allegation.”

Judge Barth nods, and bangs her gavel again. “The court will adjourn for a fifteen minute recess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Take It Like A Man
> 
> I apologize for the tiny cliffhanger! Don't worry, it's like the judge says. Court will resume in fifteen minutes and by fifteen minutes I mean this coming Thursday evening!


	10. Is it relevant to assume

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features explicit sexual harassment in the form of unwanted kissing. It's brief, but it is shown. If you want to skip it, I will be starting and ending the scene with asterisks.

Sonny’s phone vibrates, and he mouths an apology to his colleagues as he slides out of the pew and moves out into the hallway to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Sonny! Listen, remember how I was saying we should do June weddings?”

He sighs and pinches his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose. “Listen, Bells, about that.”

“Forget about it!” She yells excitedly. “We just got hitched at the courthouse! I’m pregnant!”

“Oh my god, Bella! Congratulations!” He lets her enthusiasm wash over him as she chatters in his ear. As he listens, his eyes drift around the hall and he sees the witness, Odafin, drinking from the water fountain.

He’s dressed for court in a slightly boxy pinstriped suit, his hair slicked back into a tight braid. He must feel Sonny’s eyes on him, because he looks up – and then down, giving Sonny a head-to-toe onceover before his lips curl into a smirk and he winks at Sonny while making a lewd kissing motion.

Sonny’s first reaction is disgust – because ew, can men not be gross for one minute? – and then shock, because if Odafin is blatantly flirting with Sonny, he obviously couldn’t have been having an affair with Rita!

“That sounds great, Bella, I gotta go, give my love to ma and dad, bye!” He interrupts her and hangs up, rushing back into the courtroom and running over to where Buchanan and Barba are seated, talking to Rita in hushed voices.

“Tutuola was lying about the affair,” he announces, his hands on the table as he leans over to catch his breath.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them,” Rita says, gesturing at her lawyers.

“And as I’ve told you,” Buchanan says icily, “we need more than just your word for it. You’re the _defendant_ , of course you’re going to deny it. We need evidence.”

“He’s _gay_.” Sonny blurts out.

Everyone turns to stare at him.

“What?” Rafael asks. “Sonny, are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” he nods. “He was totally flirting with me in the hallway.”

“That’s hardly evidentiary,” Buchanan says. “Did he _say_ anything?”

“Well, no,” Sonny admits. “It was more um. Physical.”

“No, wait, it makes sense,” Rita says, comprehension dawning in her eyes. “Before Fin came to work for us, James kept firing his maintenance staff because they were always hitting on me. Fin never even looked at me, not even when I sunbathed nude or went skinny-dipping in the pool.”

“I don’t want to speak out of turn here,” Peter interjects. “But, Sonny, are you sure he was flirting with you? It’s only, you know, sometimes you read too much into things.”

“He was practically licking his chops, Peter. So yeah, I’m pretty sure I know what flirting looks like.”

“I don’t buy it,” Peter says, shaking his head. “He doesn’t _look_ gay to me.”

Sonny, Rafael, Trevor, and Minonna all stare at him.

“And what does ‘gay’ look like, then?” Minonna asks him pointedly.

“Honestly, Peter,” Trevor rolls his eyes, “for a gay man, you are _so_ straight sometimes.” He turns to Sonny. “He was _shocked_ when Victor Garber ‘came out’, even though everyone already knew.”

Buchanan still doesn’t look convinced, but Rafael leans over. “Let me take the lead on questioning him,” he says. “I’ve got an idea.”

“The floor is yours,” Buchanan says, with a droll wave.

Once court is called back to order, Barba stands and smooths down his tie as he approaches the witness box.

“Mr. Tutuola – may I call you Fin?”

Fin smirks. “Yeah, sure.”

“How long have you been having the affair with Ms. Calhoun?”

“A year.”

“Mhm, so by now I imagine you had little nicknames for each other?”

Fin shifts in his seat. “Uh, yeah.”

“What did she call you?” Rafael asks, looking at the gallery. Looking at Sonny. He nods imperceptibly and Sonny breathes out a sigh. Rafael knows what he’s doing.

“Finny.” He answers.

“And what did you call her?”

“Riri.”

Rita shudders and Sonny can guess what her whispers to Buchanan are saying.

Rafael turns back to him, almost as if he’d forgotten something.

“And what do you call your boyfriend?”

“Johnny.”

The courtroom erupts in shocked gasps and Fin waves his arms as if to erase his last statement.

“No, no, I didn’t hear the question right, I thought you said best friend, Johnny is my best friend! Not my boyfriend!”

There’s a clamour at the back of the gallery as a man jumps up in outrage.

“You lying _bastard_!”

Judge Barth bangs her gavel as the man lets out a shrill wail and storms dramatically out of the courtroom.

“Wait, John!” Fin runs out of the witness box after him. “Babe, I’m sorry, wait!”

There is stunned silence as the doors swing shut behind him, and the prosecutor looks at the judge in confusion.

The judge sighs and bangs her gavel once more. “Court is adjourned until tomorrow.”

* * *

The mood in Buchanan’s office is joyous as a bottle of champagne is popped open and poured into flutes.

“To Rafael,” Buchanan raises his glass. “For conducting one of the best cross-examinations I’ve seen in years.”

Rafael ducks his head, but he’s brimming with pride as he raises his own glass. “I couldn’t have done it without Sonny’s intuition. To Sonny!”

“To Rafael and Sonny!” Everyone toasts.

“I have to give it to you, Sonny,” Buchanan says, “I still want that alibi, but your keeping the client’s trust matters more. You have more integrity than most partnered attorneys I know. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and I know it’s going to take you far in life.”

Sonny can feel his ears heating up at what amounts to gushing praise from his stern professor.

Buchanan claps his hands together. “Alright, we have a big day tomorrow and I want you all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the rest of the trial. Go home, everyone, get some rest.”

Everyone gathers up their coats but as people trickle out, Buchanan stops Sonny.

“Stay a moment, would you, Mr. Carisi? I want to discuss something with you.”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” He catches Rafael’s eye and smiles. “I’ll be right there.”

Rafael nods and moves with the others to the elevator. As they’re all walking out, Trevor catches Sonny’s eye and gives him a small smile. Sonny returns it, feeling a sense of relief that he and Trevor have been able to overcome their initial antagonism and grow friendly.

Buchanan closes the door and turns back to Sonny.

“I really appreciate what you said, professor,” Sonny says. “It means a lot to me.”

Buchanan smiles at him as he pours out some more champagne for the two of them.

“It was well-earned, young man. You’ve got a shark’s instincts.” He clinks his glass against Sonny’s.

“I’ve learned a lot from you, sir.” Sonny says, setting his glass down without taking a sip.

“Oh come now Sonny, it’s not about what you’ve learned – instinct isn’t taught, it’s innate. And you’ve got it – in spades. I’d really like to discuss your career path. Have you given any thought about where you might be a summer associate?”

“Not really,” Sonny admits. “I know it’s very competitive.”

“Do you know what competition is really about? It’s about ferocity. Balancing human intelligence with that animal instinct. Knowing exactly what you want and how far you’ll go to get it.”

**

He’s in front of Sonny, looking intently at him, and Sonny suddenly feels less like a shark and more like the bait. Buchanan puts a meaty hand on Sonny’s neck and swoops in, clumsily grabbing him in a rough kiss.

Sonny pushes him away and slaps him, then cringes back, wiping his mouth. His breathing is shallow and rapid as he tries to process what just happened.

“What the hell?” Sonny gasps. “Is this the only reason you gave me the internship? Because you wanted to sleep with me?”

Buchanan straightens his shoulders and prods at his cheek, heated from the slap.

“I thought you were smarter than that,” he spits out. “It’s been nice working with you, Mr. Carisi. You can see yourself out.”

**

Sonny feels numb as he picks up his briefcase and coat before he rushes out of the office. As he runs, he slams into a solid body and he looks up to see Peter, Trevor standing behind him, his mouth open in surprise.

Peter’s eyes are doing that crinkling thing that Sonny always loved, because it means he found something amusing. Sonny feels sick, there’s nothing amusing happening here.

“Wow, Sonny!” Peter’s hands come up to catch him and keep him upright. “I guess we know how you got your internship, huh? Hey, remind me how you knew the pool boy was actually gay? Maybe there was something more than flirting?”

“Peter,” Trevor’s voice is cold, directed at his fiancé even as he is looking at Sonny. “Shut up.”

Sonny doesn’t respond, doesn’t say anything at all, just pushes away from Peter and runs into the elevator, jabbing at the buttons repeatedly to close the doors. One of them must have forgotten something and they doubled back, and now Sonny has witnesses to his abject humiliation.

His stomach sinks further when the elevator doors ping open to the lobby and he sees Rafael waiting for him, looking down at his phone.

He must sense Sonny, because he looks up then, his smile so wide and genuine that Sonny feels his exterior crack in the face of such sweet openness. As he approaches, it’s clear from the way Rafael’s smile drops that Sonny’s own face is showing his emotions.

“Sonny?” He asks, putting his hand out. Sonny flinches, and he draws back.

“I’m quitting,” he says.

“What? Why?” Rafael is trying to meet his eyes, but he can’t look at him, can’t face those warm green eyes.

“This was a mistake. Law school, the internship, it was all a mistake.”

“What are you talking about? Sonny, you earned this.”

“I didn’t earn anything.” He finally lifts his eyes to look at his friend. “Buchanan only gave me the internship because he wants to sleep with me. Which he made pretty clear just now, when he hit on me.”

“Buchanan did what?!”

“He kissed me, then he fired me. He made it very clear that I don’t belong here. And he’s right. I’m going home to L.A, where I can stop pretending to be something I’m not.”

Rafael moves directly in front of him.

“To hell with Buchanan, you absolutely belong here. Stay, prove him wrong. We can fix this.”

Sonny shakes his head tiredly. “Let me go, Raf. Give me a call if you’re ever in California, okay?”

He leans down and kisses Rafael softly on the cheek before walking away. He blinks rapidly, eyes burning with tears that he refuses to let fall.

He stops by his dorm to pick up Buttons and looks around. He’ll deal with everything else later, right now he has a stop to make before he hits the road.

* * *

It’s only early evening when he gets to The Nail Bar, but Sonny feels pathetically grateful for the salon being mostly empty when he walks in.

Mike is there, stretched out on the floor with PA curled up into a sleepy bun on his ass. Zara is lying next to him, gazing at him with a soulful and adoring expression. The look he’s giving the poodle is equally as adoring, and Sonny feels one tiny crack in his spirit mend at the sight.

“Sonny, what’s going on?” Nick comes out from behind the counter and he sounds so concerned that Sonny’s knees go weak and he almost collapses into his friend’s arms.

Mike jumps up to help, displacing PA, who yips sharply. Nick waves him away as he helps Sonny over to a chair.

“I don’t actually need a manicure,” Sonny mumbles. “I just didn’t want to leave Boston without saying goodbye to my best friend here.”

“Goodbye, what are you talking about?” Nick sits down across from him.

“I’m going home, back to California. All this time, I thought I was proving something about myself, but it turns out I’m still just only ever going to be seen as a hot piece of ass. What’s the point in staying, Nick? No one’s ever going to take me seriously. My classmates don’t. Peter doesn’t. I don’t think he ever did. I’m not even sure my parents take me seriously.”

He finally lets a few tears trickle down his cheeks. “I just felt like, for the first time ever, someone believed I could do more with my life, but I was kidding myself. It turns out I’m just a joke.”

“You’re not a joke, Sonny.”

Sonny’s head shoots up and he sees Trevor standing in the doorway. He steps into the salon, wringing his hands.

“Trevor, what are you doing here?” Sonny looks behind him, but Trevor is there alone.

“I came to stop you, or at least – to try and convince you not to go. Sonny, Peter was wrong.” He shuffles his feet awkwardly. “Look, I’m not – what I’m trying to say is.” He squares his shoulders. “It’s not just Peter. I was wrong too. I judged you from the day you arrived, but you’ve shown me over and over that you do belong here. And if you can prove it to me, you can prove it to everyone else.”

As he listens, Sonny knows that he truly means what he is saying. And he’s not wrong, Sonny has proven himself, repeatedly. Every class debate he’s won, every test he’s aced – he feels sick when he thinks about Buchanan’s, but he’s got other classes he’s excelled in with professors who haven’t tried to stick their tongues down his throat.

And to hell with what Peter said, Sonny knows he got them the win on their witness today.

“You’re right, Trevor,” Sonny says slowly, rising to his feet. Buttons pokes his head up out of Sonny’s bag.

“I’m going home,” Sonny announces, and everyone’s faces fall before he elaborates. “Back to my dorm. I’ve got a lot to do before tomorrow!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from There! Right There!
> 
> For any of you who have been following me on Twitter as I write this, you know the entire Fin storyline had me twisted. Legally Blonde relies heavily on a very dated view of male sexuality as seen by cishet women. So, consider this your friendly reminder than men can be bi/pan!


	11. I see no end to what you'll achieve

Buchanan is pacing up and down in front of the courtroom when Rafael arrives, their defendant in tow.

“Where the hell have you been?” He asks roughly. “I was getting ready to ask the judge for a continuance.” He pushes open the door and they all walk into the courtroom, where Judge Barth is looking impatient behind the bench.

“Are you ready to proceed, Mr. Buchanan?” She asks, glaring down at them.

“Yes, your honour. My apologies, we were just running a little behind schedule.” Buchanan smiles ingratiatingly up her.

Rafael looks at him silently, his mouth set in a flat line. Rita steps forward, her eyes glinting.

“Mr. Buchanan, I’ve decided to go in another direction with my defense counsel. You’re excused.”

He scoffs, but she draws herself up haughtily. “I’m not joking, John. You’re fired.”

Buchanan’s head swivels between Rita and Barba. “You’re going to fire your counsel in the middle of your trial? How stupid are you?”

“I’m not firing my counsel,” Rita replies. “Just you. I’m quite confident that I still have a winning legal team in my corner.”

At that moment, the doors push open again and Sonny walks into the room, Trevor and Minonna behind him. His loping walk is confident and relaxed, nothing left of yesterday’s self-doubting attitude. He’s wearing a grey suit with thin dark blue pinstripes and a pale pink shirt, and he’s thrown his attempt at subtlety completely out the window. His tie and pocket square feature alternating pink, purple, and blue diagonal stripes, the colours brightly vibrant against the pale tones of his suit.

Buchanan’s face shifts into a sneer as Sonny walks up to him. “What are you doing here?” He asks. “I thought I made it perfectly clear last night that you were done here.”

“Excuse me,” Sonny says, “I’d like a word with my client.” He is relieved to hear his voice coming out cool and even, because his heart is beating rapidly and he feels like he’s about one sip of coffee from a caffeine overdose.

Buchanan’s face is turning red as he realizes what Sonny is implying, and he turns to the judge.

“Your honour, this man is only a law student, he cannot be defense counsel.”

“That’s not entirely accurate, your honour.” Barba says, and he nods at Minonna, who approaches the bench with an open law book. “If you’ll direct your attention there, the Supreme Judicial Court has ruled that a law student may represent a defendant in criminal proceedings.”

Barth reads the passage Minonna is pointing to carefully. “The ruling also states the student must have a licensed attorney acting in a supervisory capacity.” She says, and turns to Buchanan.

“Mr. Buchanan?”

“Absolutely not,” he spits.

Barth moves to close the book and Barba speaks up. “Your honour, I’m a licensed attorney. I’d be willing to supervise Mr. Carisi.”

Sonny watches him, slightly incredulous. He’d known this would happen, had already discussed it with him, but seeing Rafael stand up for him like this feels good in a way no manicure or new tie could. He looks every inch the polished lawyer himself today, in a shirt that is the palest peach, and a light red paisley tie.

The judge looks at him, and then at the rest of the team before moving her gaze to Rita.

“Ms. Calhoun? Are you willing to accept this counsel?”

She nods. “I am, your honour.”

Barth shrugs. “In that case, Mr. Buchanan, I see no reason not to allow it.”

He blusters for a moment, directing his ire first at Barba. “You can kiss that associate’s position goodbye.”

Barba just looks at him. “There are other firms, professor. Ones where the partners _don’t_ commit misdemeanors against the interns.”

The redness in Buchanan’s face darkens as he shoots a vicious glare at Sonny, and then Rita.

“Enjoy prison,” he hisses at her before storming out of the courtroom. The other interns look nervous, not sure if they’re meant to stay or follow their professor. Rafael nods at them. “I’m still the intern liaison,” he reminds them. “This won’t affect your placements.”

Sonny sinks into the counsel’s chair, his breath coming out in gasps. Barba stands over him, close enough to touch but not reaching out.

“You ready?” He asks, and when Sonny looks up, it is into those now familiar warm green eyes. Rafael’s mouth quirks into a little smile as Sonny nods. “Good.”

“Mr. Carisi, you may call your first witness,” Judge Barth says, sounding bored now that the shift in program has been resolved.

“Thank you, your honour.” He takes a sip of water to steady his nerves and wet his dry throat.

“We call Amanda Rollins to the stand.”

A young woman with curly blonde hair walks over to the witness booth and is sworn in. She has a lightly Southern accent that has clearly been mediated by years of living on the East Coast.

“Miss Rollins, can you tell us your relationship to the defendant?” Sonny asks.

She curls her lip as she eyeballs Rita. “She was married to my daddy.”

“So, your stepmother?” He stands and buttons his jacket as he walks towards her.

“Sure, if you want.” She shrugs.

“Miss Rollins, why don’t you walk me through the events of that afternoon, as best as you remember them. You were out earlier that day, correct?”

“Yes,” she responds. “I was getting a perm.” Her hand moves up almost involuntarily to caress her golden curls.

“And when you got home, that’s when you found Rita with your father’s body?”

“No, I went upstairs to have a shower, and when I came out, I heard Rita’s scream and that’s when I ran down and found her next to my daddy, covered in his blood!”

“But you didn’t see the gun?” Sonny asks.

“No, she’d already hidden it.”

Sonny turns to the stenographer and the judge. “Motion to strike, your honour, speculation.”

Barth taps her gavel and nods to the stenographer. “So stricken.”

“To clarify, Miss Rollins, you did not hear the shot fired?”

Amanda rolls her eyes. “No, I was in the shower. I couldn’t hear anything over the running water.”

Sonny nods slowly. “You didn’t hear the gunshot because you were in the shower.”

“That’s what I said, yeah.”

“And the shower was the first thing you did when you got home from…”

“From getting a perm.” She sounds exasperated, and the judge seems to feel the same.

“Is this going anywhere, Mr. Carisi?” Judge Barth asks.

“Yes, your honour, I’m sorry. Miss Rollins, was this your first time getting a perm?”

Amanda looks confused at the change in questioning. “No, I’ve been getting my hair permed since junior high, about two or three a year.”

He smiles amiably at her. “A gentleman never asks a lady her age, but could you estimate how many perms that makes in your lifetime?”

She preens at the perceived compliment as she thinks. “I would say at least two dozen,” she answers.

“At least two dozen,” Sonny taps his fingers on the wooden barrier of the witness box. “And after this particular perm, you went home, and you had a shower.”

He looks over at Rafael, who looks anxiously confused but nods encouragingly nonetheless, and then he turns to face the jury.

“You know, my sister Gina, she got a perm once. I tried to talk her out of it –” He looks back at Amanda and waves his hand at her. “She didn’t have your bone structure. Anyhow, she went ahead with it. Thankfully, we were having a Memorial Day pool party that very weekend and some friends decided to throw her into the pool.”

“Mr. Carisi, is there a point to this story?” The judge looks sternly at him.

He blushes, trying to get himself back on track. “There is your honour, I promise.”

“Well then, get to it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He turns to Amanda.

“Miss Rollins, why were Gina’s curls ruined after she got thrown into the pool?”

Amanda sneers. “Because they got wet, duh. Everyone knows you can’t get a perm wet for 48 hours…” She trails off suddenly.

“Exactly!” Sonny points to her. “Water deactivates the ammonium thioglycolate and completely ruins it’s effect on the keratin structure. It’s the number one rule of perm maintenance, and wouldn’t someone who’s had at least two dozen perms in her lifetime _know_ that?”

“Wait, I – ” Amanda is starting to get flustered as she sits there, but Sonny isn’t finished.

“Miss Rollins, you did know this rule, and your curls are still intact, which means you were not in the shower when your father was killed. So you couldn’t have missed the gunshot because of the running water. And if in fact you did hear the gunshot, and immediately went running to see what had happened, Rita wouldn’t have had time to dispose of the weapon, but you didn’t find her holding it, which means you lied.”

Amanda throws her hands down on the barrier with a slam and Sonny jumps back.

“Did you know she’s only two years older than me? Do you think I _liked_ being the same age as my dad’s new trophy wife? How would you feel if your father married someone your own age!”

Sonny doesn’t answer, just keeps following the thread he’s been pulling. “You, though, Miss Rollins. You had time to hide the gun before running upstairs to pretend to be in the shower. You were the one who shot your father.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Amanda wails. “I didn’t mean to hurt my daddy!” She points angrily at Rita. “I thought it was _you_ walking through the door!”

She lets out another small shriek as she begins to cry, her shoulders heaving. Sonny stares at her in disbelief as everyone falls silent, the entire gallery in shock.

“Bailiffs, take the witness into custody,” the judge directs. “In the matter of The People vs. Rita Calhoun, case is dismissed. Ms. Calhoun, you are free to go, with the state’s apologies. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you for your service. Court is adjourned.”

The bailiffs haul Amanda down and cuff her as Judge Barth steps down from the bench.

“Oh my god,” Sonny sputters when he gets back to the defense’s table.

“Oh my god,” Rafael agrees, staring at Amanda’s retreating back as she is led away, her head hanging down as she continues to sob.

“Oh my god!” Rita throws her arms around him. “Thank you so much, Sonny. I knew I could count on you.”

He hugs her back and then smiles bashfully at Rafael.

“Sonny, that was brilliant,” he says. “How did you know Amanda was lying?”

“He’s a Delta Nu,” Rita says proudly before Sonny can answer. “We take hair care very seriously.”

Rita hugs Sonny once more before she lets herself be swept into a gaggle of supportive friends and curious reporters. Minonna and Trevor flank her, answering questions about the legal aspects of the situation.

Rafael gestures with his chin to someone behind Sonny. “I think there’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

Sonny turns around and sees Peter standing there, hands in his pockets and shoulders up near his ears. He opens his mouth as he turns back to Rafael, but Raf shakes his head.

“It’s alright. I’ll see you outside.” He squeezes Sonny’s arm and leans in to return the kiss on the cheek Sonny had given him the day before. “You should be proud of yourself, Sonny.”

He nods to Peter as he leaves, and Peter walks towards Sonny. When he looks at Sonny, he face is pensive, like he’s seeing something in Sonny that he’s never seen before.

“I was a fool.” He shakes his head. “I never should have let myself be swayed by my family and I should have taken you seriously, I was so wrong. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Peter. That means a lot to me.” Sonny bites at his lip. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the apology, but the words don’t hold the same weight they would have once upon a time. There is no surge of emotion in his heart like there would have been a year ago.

“I want you to know, I still love you, Sonny – my Sunshine.” Peter smiles, his pale eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he breaks out his most devastating gaze. “We do belong together, I see that now.”

He sounds so patently earnest, Sonny almost wants to laugh at the desperate thread he can hear in Peter’s voice.

“Oh, Peter,” Sonny says. “Trevor dumped you, didn’t he?”

Peter ducks his head and nods sheepishly. Sonny does laugh then.

“I’ll always be grateful for everything you’ve shown me,” he says. “But you did me a favour when you broke my heart, because it let me figure out who I really was. I learned that I’m worth so much more than that.”

Peter doesn’t look too surprised at his response, and he accepts it gracefully, offering his arm to Sonny as they leave the courtroom.

When they get outside, Rafael is still there, sitting on the steps of the courthouse. Peter lets go of Sonny with one final sad smile and slides back into the crowd of people surrounding Rita.

“Hi,” Rafael says, looking up at Sonny. He squints, hand up to block the sun. Sonny tugs at the knees of his trousers before sitting down next to him.

“Hi,” Sonny replies, a little breathless.

“That was a lot for your first trial,” Rafael says, his knee nudging against Sonny’s. “If it helps, they aren’t all going to be like that.”

“That’s a relief.” Sonny says with a quiet laugh. He looks at Rafael out of the corner of his eye.

“Thank you, again, Rafael.”

“What for? You won this one on your own.”

“Not for this, for…oh, just for everything. For this, but also for believing me, for believing _in_ me, for helping me find that chip on my shoulder and for being so nice to me on my first day. You’ve been a good friend.”

“Ah,” Rafael smiles blankly. “Well, I try.”

“The thing is,” Sonny chews the inside of his lip as he tries to find the right combination of words that will say what he wants to tell Rafael. “I have a lot of friends here, now.”

“That’s…good?” Rafael looks quizzically at him.

“What I’m trying to say is, Raf – oh, to hell with it.”

Sonny turns, puts his hand on Rafael’s cheek. He waits for a breath to see if the other man will pull away. Rafael’s lips part slightly and his eyes catch Sonny’s. He doesn’t say anything, but under his hand, Sonny can feel his chin dip in an almost imperceptible nod.

He leans in then, closing his eyes as his lips brush against Rafael’s. The kiss is soft, easy, like there is nowhere either of them needs to be in the world that is not together on these steps. It is a slow exploration as they learn each other’s mouths, their breath in sync.

When they finally pull apart it is a gradual separation as the kiss changes from deep, open lips and dancing tongues, to shallow, closed mouths pecking at each other, noses nuzzling.

“Hey Sonny?” Rafael licks his lips nervously, their faces still close together.

“Yeah?” Sonny’s heart is hammering in his chest. Maybe Rafael was just caught up in the adrenaline of the case, maybe he’s not looking for someone, maybe Sonny’s still not right.

“Would you let me take you out to dinner?”

Oh, Sonny thinks, his heartbeat beating fast for entirely different reasons now.

“I’d like that.” He says. They both stand, and as they move down the steps, Rafael’s hand comes to rest gently on the small of Sonny’s back. He doesn’t say anything, but lets himself press against the warm weight of Rafael’s hand.

They walk past Rita’s group, and she looks over at them, her eyes skimming down to see where they are joined. She winks at Sonny, and he feels his skin heating up in a flush.

When he looks over, Rafael is also blushing, his lips pressed together in a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Legally Blonde (Remix)
> 
> The eagle-eyed among you have already observed that I've made use of Sonny and Rafael's suits from SVU. There's a little easter egg in this chapter regarding Sonny's suit for the final day of the trial - here's a hint: it did not feature on SVU but it does connect Legally Blonde to SVU.


	12. Granted, not a complete surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, oh my god you guys. Please bear with me through a lengthy author's note.
> 
> A lot of you know that I swore, years ago, never to write another fucking longform chapfic because of how intensely difficult the experience was for my first one. And you have all been there, cheering me on, as I decided to exorcise that demon from my brain. So, here it is. I wrote another fucking longform chapfic.
> 
> This story exists because I made the mistake of saying, in a group chat, "hey, someone should write a Legally Blonde AU". Thanks are owed to Soph and Kat for being the first to go "yes, yes someone should" and then stare pointedly at me from across the Atlantic ocean.
> 
> The other reason this story exists is because of my beta Bex, who has been my fandom ride or die since we first bonded over Sansan a million years ago. Fandoms change, noodle sisters are forever.
> 
> Thanks again to Gayle for lending me PA, to Nads for being my rock no matter which of us should be in bed at any given time, and to every single person who's been along for this ride. Getting emails 90 seconds after a chapter went up because you dropped everything to read an update is the kind of thing that melts my icy heart and I love you for it.

The sun is shining down brightly on the assembly of people seated on folding chairs in the Tercentenary Theatre, right in the middle of Harvard Yard. It’s warm, but not uncomfortably so, the perfect weather for a two-hour outdoor convocation ceremony.

“It gives me great pleasure to introduce you all to our valedictorian, a man who taught me – who taught all of us – how important it was to be true to yourself.”

Trevor is wrapping up his speech as class president, and he looks over to where Sonny is sitting.

“Esteemed guests, friends and family, I give you Sonny Carisi!”

The applause is loud, and Sonny can hear his sisters shouting over it as he stands and walks over to Trevor, thanking him with a handshake and one-armed hug before stepping up to the podium.

He looks down at his notes and then smiles to himself, tucking the index cards back into his coat pocket as he leans into the mic and opens his mouth.

The words are a buzz in his ears, so practiced that he thinks he could probably recite them backwards at this point. Rafael is seated in the audience with the other secondary faculty, and his face is a focal point for Sonny as he speaks. He’s beaming up at Sonny, his face glowing with pride, and as Sonny talks about everything he and his classmates have learned in the past three years, he is already looking to the future and what it will look like with Rafael by his side.

* * *

“Queerly beloved, we are gathered here togay….ah, fuck it.”

A tall woman with a fake California tan and brassy curls stands on a stage and looks out into a crowd of people.

“I know why you all are here,” she says, “you guys don’t care about his valedictorian speech, you just wanna know if he gets the guy in the end.”

The crowd cheers, and he waves it off.

“Yeah yeah, alright, keep your pants on. Except you, you can take your pants off.” She leers at a man seated right at the front who blushes profusely.

“You know how the stories go, right, the screen fades to black and everyone lives happily ever after. Well, mostly everyone. Is everyone cozy? You got your drinks? Good, now sit back and let Paulette tell you what happened next.”

Sonny watches Paulette strut around the stage. He’s proud of his friend, her show is one of Boston’s most popular drag nights now, and he’s excited about the surprise they have cooked up for tonight. She’s been regaling the audience with the story of his first year at Harvard, complete with a few song breaks, and now it’s time for the grand finale.

“I bet you all want to know what happened to that sleazeball professor, hey?” Paulette pauses while the audience jeers. “Yeah, his wife felt about the same – so she hired Barba to handle the divorce! He got her one of the biggest alimony payouts the city’s ever seen. His business partners edged him out of the firm on a morals clause, and now he’s one of those late night TV ambulance chasers.”

Sonny nudges Rafael, who smiles at the memory of how incredibly sweet that victory had been.

“Our favourite Trevor decided to go into family law, and even helped one of our own performers recently with their adoption!”

Trevor blushes as Paulette gestures to him. Sitting next to him is another of the club’s superstars, a drag king who goes by the name Oliver Twist. Outside of the club, she’s a single mother who has Trevor to thank for helping her retain custody of her foster son, and based on the hand she’s got placed high up on Trevor’s thigh, Sonny suspects their relationship has moved past businesslike.

“Ms. Rita, now, there’s a saucy tale,” Paulette purrs. “After the case against her was dismissed, she used her husband’s money to finance an actual installment of the Real Housewives franchise right here in Boston, which she stars in. Now, if any of you watch it – and don’t deny it, we all do – you know that Sonny appeared in the first episode, where Rita throws that big housewarming party and Sonny finds out his classmate Hasim is a cater-waiter? Well, for anyone who missed last week’s episode, after an entire season of will-they-won’t-they, she finally took Hasim for a ride on her yacht – and that ain’t a euphemism, children!”

A woman in the audience calls out, “what about Minonna?”, and Paulette cocks a hip.

“Well, I can tell you Sonny brought her down to Nicky’s salon and fixed that tragic hair situation,” he jokes. “But more importantly, she’s working for Lambda Legal in DC, fighting the good fight for all of us.”

Paulette pauses, looking off-stage again. His features soften, his natural accent slipping in. “Nick did alright for himself too,” she says, waggling her fingers at the man seated front and centre who she’d catcalled earlier.

He blows her a kiss, which she catches and tucks into her back pocket.

“Nick married that UPS guy of his, and revamped The Nail Bar into Boston’s leading salon for people and dogs alike. There’s flyers and stamp cards by the door, grab one on your way out.”

She gets distracted by the self-promotion and then giggles. “Peter, of course, did not follow in his daddy’s footsteps. He decided to drop out of law school and pursue his dream of being a professional ball player.”

The audience titters as Pauline makes an obscene gesture. Sonny laughs alongside them, although a small part of him really is happy that Peter’s finally following his dream, not the dream his family pushed on him.

“Sonny, though, he’s who you all really want to know about.”

A spotlight beams down on Sonny’s table and he waves sheepishly as he stands to join Paulette on stage. Rafael looks up in confusion as Sonny takes the mic.

“Hi, uh, hey everyone.” He says. “I did pretty good for myself after that first year. I’m planning to take the New York bar exam in a few months. If I pass, I’ve got an offer waiting that I’m pretty keen to take. It’s a brand-new law firm, and I know they’re taking a chance on bringing in someone fresh out of law school as an associate, but they’re doing good work – important work – and I’m really excited to be a part of it.”

He looks fondly at Rafael. “I really don’t know if I’d be where I am now, planning this life of bringing justice to those without a voice, if it weren’t for one person who showed me all the ways a man can succeed.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. A gasp ripples through the room as Sonny hops down from the stage and walks back to Rafael, getting down on one knee.

“What do you say, Rafael? Partners in law _and_ partners in life? Will you marry me?”

There’s a collective inhale and holding of breath before Rafael nods, putting his hand in Sonny’s to allow him to slide the ring onto his finger. Sonny draws him up to standing and they kiss as applause surrounds them.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Find My Way
> 
> I know I kind of hinted at Olivia in another role in an early chapter but I also have a secret passion for Olivia and Trevor, so. Yes, that is Olivia Benson as a drag king. You're all welcome for the mental image.


End file.
